Disorderly Conduct
by Minnionette
Summary: Koenma is a firm believer in fighting fire with fire, although bringing the Reikai Tantei out of retirement to subtlety monitor Oga and companions seems more akin to fighting a bonfire with gasoline. Especially when neither group can do subtle.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **Well, I really, really was trying hard working on a Pandora Heart/Soul Eater crossover, but then _this_ plot bunny bit me. It had rabies. D: So, uh, yeah. I estimate that Yu Yu Hakusho took place about fifteen years before Beelzebub does, making Yuusuke and company about thirty. (Well, Yuusuke, Keiko, Kuwabara, and Karuma's body are about thirty. The demons, Botan, and Koenma are vastly older. But you get the picture.)

* * *

The staff of Ishiyama High was a dichotomy. On one hand, there were those who were easily intimidated by the hooligans who ran roughshod authority. These teachers cowered in the shadow of their students, long beaten down from their lofty ideals into the cold gutters of reality. They cringed at raised voices, flinched from raised fists, and lived in a perpetual agony of mental breakdown and ulcers. They would eventually spend their pension in a constant state of PTSD, holing up in their tiny apartments and becoming hermits until the day they would die, alone and hidden within their fortress of pillows and blankets.

On the other hand was the staff that had the hard-won respect from their delinquent students – respect that came from being stronger, faster, and even more brutal than the hooligans who roamed the not-so-hallowed halls. It was a begrudging respect so easily lost that had to be defended every day through blood, sweat, and brightly-colored bruises.

The heads of the prefecture looked the other way when these teachers proved to be as bloodthirsty and violent as their students – after all, _someone_ had to keep the delinquents in line. This school was all that stood between the forces from hell being unleashed upon the rest of the unsuspecting world. The heads of the prefecture figured that someone had to take one (or lots) for the team – whoever the team was. (It wasn't the students. They weren't allowed to participate in district sports since the last bloodbath.)

The teachers taught, the support staff attempted to run the school while making sure it didn't collapse overhead, and the students did their best to not pay any attention to the adults. It was unhappy compromise for everyone all around.

oOoOo

Hilda had been sensing another demon lurking outside the school buildings for some time. It was just the slightest sense – she would have thought it to have been nothing more than the passing scent of a demon that had come and gone days ago, but the scent was fresh and persistent.

While Oga was off doing what Oga did best, Hilda decided to investigate this lurking scent. Her nose led her to some scraggly-looking rose bushes that were doing their utmost to survive in the cruel, cold world that was the Ishiyama concrete campus. Hilda bent over and reached out to touch her fingertips against a young yellow bud. The demon energy slid across her fingertips like smooth water without even nipping at her, and her surprise was palpable at such ease.

But it wasn't the demon energy that made the hair on the back of her neck rise. Straightening quickly and turning around, one hand tightening upon her umbrella's handle, she faced the looming deadliness at her back – only to find an unassuming middle-aged man peering at her with gentle green eyes from beneath the brim of his straw hat. At least he seemed middle-aged. Old-young? It was hard for Hilda to estimate ages of humans.

The man leaned against the handle of his push-broom and regarded her with friendly amusement. "May I help you?" His voice was soft and androgynous, and his body language was open and friendly. There was warmth in his eyes that Hilda hadn't seen from anyone else – not even Takayuki Furuichi – in this entire school.

Everything about this man screamed danger to Hilda's senses. She felt dizzy from the incongruences. "I don't know. I was looking for someone."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance." His head tilted as he smiled in a helpful manner. "You appear to be new here. I'm sure the place is nothing like where you come from." Hilda startled, almost glancing at the roses at such an open statement, and then turned her body fully to face the man. She didn't dare leave herself vulnerable. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, as if it was trying to escape. "Is it the flowers?" he asked suddenly. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Sometimes, I don't even know why I try to grow anything around here. The students inevitably destroy everything, it seems."

Hilda slowly inched away from the roses, suddenly not wanting demon energy at her back, either. The man didn't seem to give her wariness any notice. "But there's a spot of beauty in everyone's heart, even if it seems as stunted and as desperate as these poor bushes seem."

"The roses don't belong," Hilda blurted. She stilled when the man turned his full attention on her. His gaze was still warm and bright – like sunlight gleaming off a very sharp blade, she thought.

"Ah." The man brought his hands together and raised them as a fist to his lips, as if in thought. Then he smiled gently and opened his hands. "Perhaps you might find this better suited for a lady such as yourself." The flower bud in his hands was half-open and exquisitely shaped, as if it were created from white granite by a master sculptor. The petals were sharp and lined with teeth. He presented it to her.

Hilda felt a cold sweat break out on her back as she reluctantly accepted the tusp. The subtle scent of rotting flesh drifted from the flower that could only be found in Hell, and rarely at that. A flower that was only available to demons – and she couldn't sense anything demonic about this man. "Pretty on the outside, but evil on the inside?" she asked, feeling her temper flare. The hand gripping the umbrella's handle was starting to hurt from the tension.

The man's smile never changed as he shook his head. "No. A predator dressed in her finest without apology or shame of her true nature."

She yanked the sword out of the umbrella and trained the sharp point towards his eye. He didn't even disdain to give the sword any attention as his gaze turned back upon the roses. "They're suitable for Ishiyama," he said. "They aren't prize-winning and they lack grace, but they're tenacious, trying to grow in such a vicious, unwelcoming environment. And they're armed with thorns. For the right person who tends to them? They will flourish and become all that they were meant to be."

"Who are you? _What_ are you?" Hilda demanded coldly. She could feel the sap from the tusp leaking through her other fist, clenched tightly against her side. The flower's scent of rotting flesh was much stronger now. All the demonic energy she felt came from external sources – the flower, the rose bushes – that had been in contact _only_ with this _human_.

The man's arm was once again disarming, and he bowed respectfully. "I am Minamino Shuichi. I'm just the groundskeeper who does janitorial work on the side. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other messes to attend." He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and moved away, pushing his broom before himself. "Another day, another student marks their territory."

Hilda waited until the man was out of sight before she sheathed her sword. Her hand was shaking, and she glared at it before swiping at the sweat that gathered at her brow. She tried to tell herself that the man's unflinching, unwavering attitude at the sight of her steel was because he worked at Ishiyama. He was probably threatened on an hourly basis by students even more intimidating than herself.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever the man was used to facing down, it was far more dangerous than the students of Ishiyama…or even herself.

oOoOo

"What do you know about the gardener?" Hilda asked Oga as they left school, Baby Be'el clinging to Oga's shirt and Takayuki Furuichi following at their heel. Oga left his usual swath of damage behind.

"Who?" Oga asked.

"Redhead," Furuichi supplied. "The one who keeps thinking that our fellow delinquents might appreciate flowers."

Oga appeared to concentrate. "Who?" he asked again, before clubbing an attacker with his elbow.

Furuichi sighed. "The person you thought was a woman the first day of school, which made the school nurse laugh until he choked on his cigarette?"

"Oh. Oh yeah. What about him?" Oga asked Hilde.

"Does he…does he concern you in anyway?"

Oga raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Like, how? Do you expect him to, what, start fight with a rose ala Tuxedo Kamen or something? Man's a pansy." Hilda stopped and stared. Oga walked a few more steps before he realized that she was no longer keeping pace. He sighed and rolled his eyes at her surprise. "What? I bet my sister could put up a better fight he could."

"But you've never fought him or anything?"

"Why should I? He's never gotten in my way, and it would feel like kicking a dog." Oga thought a moment as he slugged someone in the diaphragm. "A really old, incontinent dog. With no teeth."

"Have you even heard of _anyone_ picking a fight with him?"

Oga laughed as he kicked another person in the chin. "Do I look like I give a flying fuck about who beats up who at the school?"

Hilda looked at Furuichi for confirmation, and the other boy shrugged. "I could tell you which of the staff gets into fights with the students, and which of the staff you can bully into submission, but as far as Shuichi Minamino is concerned…" A strange look crossed his face. "Come to think about it, I haven't heard of anyone fighting him. Or even intimidating him. He's just… someone you leave alone, I guess. Live and let live. This is kinda odd, now that I think about it, because he'd have to be, like, the only one in the entire school. Wow!"

Hilda shook her head in quiet amazement as a chill rushed up and down her spine. Of course no one would even think of picking a fight with the groundskeeper. Because if Ishiyama High was a henhouse, and it was filled to the brim with fighting cocks, then Minamino Shuichi was the great horned owl – a true predator whose ever-patient shadow the nearsighted cocks mistook as that of a complacent pigeon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **The rabid plotbunny brought friends over to my brain. And then they had an orgy, so more plotbunnies were born. D:

* * *

Furuichi was man enough to openly admit that home economics was one of his favorite classes. Even if it was due to being was essentially free of idiots and nethanderals; the teacher was intolerant of rough housing and held his own very well against the delinquents of Ishiyama High. "I was a delinquent long before you brats were even born – I've been there, I've done it, and I used the shirt to mop up the blood. Ain't none of you who can hold a candle to me," the man had said the first day of class, and then he proved it.

It didn't hurt that Furuichi was also surrounded by students of the ever-so-fine feminine persuasion who didn't mind pairing up with a guy who could cook. (Before Aoi brought the girls back from their trip up north, it had just been Furuichi and two other guys in the class. And it had been gloriously quiet and peaceful those first few weeks.)

Like the other teachers who fought and won their hard-earned respect, Kuwabara Kazuma's classroom was considered neutral territory, until someone might eventually get the better of him and declare it part of their turf. Neutral territory meant that students who weren't supposed to be part of the class could come and go, so long as they weren't disruptive. As far as Kuwabara and other such teachers were concerned (and desperately grateful), any participation – passive or otherwise –was welcome. Well, as long as participation in home ec didn't devolve into explosions, fires, or an urgent need of stitches.

(The students were all _much_ more careful with their use of cooking knives while cooking, since the first – and to date, _only_ – person who needed stitches got stapled instead. The school nurse said that the paper stapler worked just fine, and he swabbed it down in alcohol beforehand to lessen the risk of infection, so stop being fussy.)

Which was how Oga, who normally had nothing at all to do with home economics and had only shown up once before during the first week of school, was able to slip in today for class without fuss. "Forgot your bento and lunch money again?" Furuichi asked snidely as Oga took a seat beside Furuichi, effectively aborting any chance Furuichi might have had at teaming up with one of the friendlier girls and maybe impressing her with his cooking talents.

Oga grunted and slumped over the table. "I heard lasagna was on the menu today." He eyed the measuring cups as if they were some sort of torture device. Baby Be'el looked around in wonder at the strange new environment.

Kuwabara turned from where he had been writing the newest recipe on the board and considered Oga for a long, silent moment. Or, rather, he considered Baby Be'el for a long, silent moment. Oga tensed. One other teacher had previously made a fuss regarding the baby in class – and Oga had silenced that fuss in a heartbeat. But that teacher had also been one of the easily-intimidated persons.

Kuwabara raised a hand and pointed at Oga as he leaned forward. "You will not be feeding the brat anything made in this class. He's too young to be starting solids yet." And then he turned back to recipe on the board.

Oga blinked. "Wasn't worried about that, anyway. Hilda always brings milk for Baby," he whispered to Furuichi.

oOoOo

Kuwabara wandered up and down the aisles, pausing at the stoves and tables to answer questions and gently correct students when mistakes were apparent. Oga and Furuichi's table was the last at which he paused. Furuichi could feel Kuwabara's presence, and the quietness of it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Oga glaring fiercely at Kuwabara. Furuichi made some quick calculations in his head – Kuwabara didn't take kindly to being challenged, and he didn't know if Oga's glaring could be misconstrued as such – and figured that he could grab the mozzarella _there_ and duck over _here_ in time to avoid being dragged into any possible fisticuffs.

Kuwabara's expression was dark as he studied Oga and Baby Be'el. Then, with a look of utter concentration on his face, Kuwabara raised a hand, and tickled Baby Be'el's chin. "Coochy coochy coo!" Oga flinched, and Furuichi would've slapped a hand over his face but for the sauce-stained spatula in his hand.

Baby Be'el's eyes were wide at the intrusion of his space. Kuwabara's face screwed up in a comical, eye-curving grimace. "Coochy! Coochy coo!" Baby Be'el giggled and swatted at the hand. Kuwabara grinned and ruffled Baby Be'el's hair. Baby Be'el squealed and clapped his hands. "Hah!" Kuwabara pinched Baby Be'el's cheeks. "Always wanted to do this to Pacifier Breath."

"How come every time _I_ try something like that," Oga grumbled, "Baby bursts into tears and electrocutes me?"

"I want a word with you after class is done," Kuwabara told Oga, his voice once again serious, before he turned and walked back to the front of the room.

oOoOo

When class had finished and while Furuichi divided the lasagna into to two servings (one for him and one for Oga – Oga's half was notably larger), Oga joined Kuwabara at the front of the classroom. Furuichi strained to hear what was said, but it was quiet. He glanced up to see that Kuwabara was studying Oga and Baby with an expression that he couldn't quite describe –frustration and fondness, and maybe some anger, but it didn't seem to be directed at Oga or his charge.

Licking remnant of the sauce off his fingertips, Furuichi grabbed the lasagna and moved up front. Not too close to appear as though he was intruding – he was Oga's friend, after all, so it wouldn't out of place to look as though he was lending some invisible support, instead of just eavesdropping.

Kuwabara sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'd tell you that you're playing with fire, kid, but you're probably a pyromaniac at heart."

Oga was tense. "Got a problem with me or Baby?" he asked angrily.

"Not at all. I ain't got nothing against demons. Some of my best friends are demons… Which is probably more a statement that I have lousy taste in friends than anything else." Kuwabara shrugged. "I have no idea how you managed to become the keeper to something as charged as _that_, and I probably don't want to know. Thing is, demons always attract more demons. And strong demons attract a lot of stronger demons." He leaned forward and pinned Oga with a piercing gaze. "_You_ might be prepared for a horde of demons, but is the rest of the school?"

Oga matched Kuwabara with a piercing glare of his own. "I don't know. What makes you think a horde of demons would be prepared for Ishiyama? What's the difference between demons and the rest of the delinquents here?" The challenge was clear in Oga's voice. Furuichi began to creep backwards, out of the line of fire.

Kuwabara laughed. "The demons have better manners." He made a shooing gesture. "Get outta here, you brats. I've got work to do."

Oga stalked from the classroom, Furuichi at his heels. He paused at the doorway of the classroom, and said with genuine curiosity, just soft enough for his voice to carry clearly to Kuwabara, "Are _you_ prepared for a horde of demons?"

Kuwabara's eyes glinted across the distance. "I show up every morning at Ishiyama High to teach an unruly pack of hoodlums looking for someone to happen to in the most inhumane ways. I teach a subject in which I willfully hand said hoodlums sharp, pointy objects and other dangerous paraphernalia. I manage to leave Ishiyama every afternoon _unscathed_. Trust me – the last horde of demons hellbent on destroying the earth as we know it that I had to face down? Much safer and less stressful to deal with than the usual horde of delinquents I face every day."

Oga studied Kuwabara for a moment, and then nodded his head, acknowledging a teacher at Ishiyama for the first time in Furuichi's memory. "I think that I actually believe you." As they retreated around a corner away from the classroom, Oga turned to Furuichi and whispered, as if he expected Kuwabara to still be in hearing, "What kind of insane doofus gives us people sharp pointy objects to work with, anyway?"

Furuichi looked at his lasagna, quite grateful that he was allowed to cook with normal cooking utensils. And the teacher who allowed students to use sharp knives was unquestionably saner than the stapler-wielding nurse. "He who fights with a naked urchin attached to his back should throw no stones."

"Wazzat?"

"More importantly, Oga, how did Kuwabara know that Baby was a demon? And who goes around openly talking about their love-hate relationship with demons anyway?"

Oga froze in mid-step. "Why didn't I wonder about that?"

Furuichi just shook his head and kept walking. Sometimes, it was really hard being the sensible sidekick.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: **Right now, I'm trying to do each chapter from a different character's perspective, and their individual experience with the Tantei. Next chapter, Oga has to see the school nurse for an injury. :D

* * *

Baby Be'el saw more and knew more than he let on. Okay – _sometimes_ he saw and knew more, and other times he just pretended that he did, because it would get a rise out of those who watched him. But in _this_ instance, there was no pretending.

He had been aware of demonic eyes watching them long before Hilda, Oga, or the others sensed such. He did his best to call Oga's attention to it, but Oga didn't pay any attention to Be'el's pointing hand or vocal cues – at least not when mathematics were involved.

Well, Be'el hadn't chosen Oga for the teenager's outstanding mental acuity, but he had been surprised and impressed by it often enough to expect Oga to at least _look_ in the direction that he wanted Oga's attention. And surely, if Oga looked, then he would also become aware of how the three eyes that studied him from across the room were inhuman.

On the other hand, that would mean that Oga would be paying attention to mathematics, and Oga gave numbers the same regard that he gave the usual stringent, unforgiving authority. Oga might have given the teacher of mathematics some regard, if the teacher demanded it, but the man – incredibly short, incredibly sour-faced, and incredibly fast in giving lessons – didn't care about regard, teaching, the subject he was supposed to be an expert on, or the students.

In fact, the teacher seemed to very much resent the fact that he was on the same plane of existence with everyone else. Which was a pretty typical attitude of your every-day. run-of-the-mill fire demon.

The teacher had introduced himself as Hiei at the first class – no last name, or maybe no first name – and said that he had absolutely no interest or cared of anyone learning. They were all just "stupid children who are caged up because the adults are too scared and too incompetent to keep you brats out of trouble anyway." Hiei zoomed through the different theories and equations, and ignored questions. He never assigned or collected homework, but was evil and sadistic enough to have pop quizzes, which nearly everyone flunked since anyone who managed to learn anything with mathematics were largely self-taught geniuses who were wise enough not to flaunt their intelligence before the population of delinquents.

Ishiyama High didn't exactly have a plethora of upstanding teachers, but it must have been _dead-desperate_ to hire someone as awful as Hiei.

Hiei's battle for respect wasn't a daily occurrence, as were other teachers. The first day of class, Oga saw a challenger quite literally burst into flame while trying to arguing with Hiei. It seemed to be too much of a coincidence, so everyone else kept their heads down. Even though the student was only slightly singed (released just one period later from the school nurse's office with a still-weeping limb of aloe vera for ongoing treatment of blisters, and rumor of the nurse saying, "Seriously? He did _what_ on the first day of school? Damn it – we told him that he wasn't allowed to immolate anyone!"), no one in Oga's class was self-destructive enough to try a repeat, even on the off-chance that it was just one of those strange scientific phenomena that only happened every few thousand years.

(An occasional pile of papers would smolder when Hiei appeared to be even more short-tempered and impatient than usual, as if it was a reminder that unexplainable immolation was a risk for anyone who might consider crossing paths with him.)

The first years in Ishiyama High _might_ have had the opportunity to become a top-ranking class nationwide in mathematics, if their teacher was passionate about his subject and shared such with the students. After all, the motivation and fear to follow direction had been instilled the first day. Perhaps, if the audience wasn't made up of delinquents with just enough survival instincts to keep their heads down in this situation rather than their usual challenge of he system, they might have still made top rankings despite Hiei's obvious ineptitude at teaching.

Still, going from the 10th worst to the absolute worst in the entire nation for mathematic scores just one month into the first semester surely had to count for something, right?

Oga would stay awake long enough to answer the pop quizzes with doodles, rhymes, and random numbers, and then drift off asleep in class for his early afternoon naptime. Or, if he was feeling awake and restless, would just outright leave the classroom in search of adventure. Or trouble. There didn't seem to be any difference in Oga's world. As long as Oga wasn't disruptive with his departure or snored too loudly, Hiei didn't seem to care.

Be'el wasn't assured that this Hiei only set challengers on fire. That Hilda hadn't sensed this demon – one who hid his third eye behind what Be'el instinctively knew was a very powerful set of wards – was unsurprising. Be'el was a beelzebub demon; his capacity to sense demons and humans with demonic natures/tendencies was far greater than a nursemaid's, even if he was still just a baby.

And so while Oga slept, Be'el kept careful guard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** A note on how I do my crossovers. I try to treat both individual canons with respect and compare them equally to each other in abilities and power levels. For instance, Kurama, Hiei, and Yuusuke are S-Class demons, of which there is only 20 acknowledged in the entire YHH canon, which makes them walking atomic bombs to their own right. I would class Hilda as C. Oga, especially in light of his Contract with Baby Be'el, is kinda hard to class, but I'd put him waffling between C and B (the latter later in canon). Someone like Saotome Zenjuro (whom I can't yet benconvinced isn't related, even distantly, to a particular Saotome Ranma…) would at least be A Class. Kuwabara is also A Class.

And for perspective, in regards to the YYH canon… it would take 500 upper A Class demons to match one S Class demon. And even then, the S Class would probably only break a light sweat in defeated the A Class demons. And A Class demons are a _hell_ of a lot stronger than C.

As for the YYH canon… I'm going with a blend of the manga and the anime. I only know the Beelzebub manga. Also, Puu can switch between his two different forms of mutated penguin and gigantic phoenix. I AM THE AUTHOR; I HAVE DECIDED THAT IT IS THUS. Don't hate me. :(

* * *

It took eight weeks and numerous fights with countless enemies before Oga had to see the school nurse with an injury serious to warrant the risk of said school nurse's attention. It wasn't even Oga's injury – but Furuichi wasn't going to get there on his busted ankle by himself.

And because Furuichi was his best friend (by default, given that Furuichi was also his only friend, really), Oga decided that he couldn't let Furuichi hobble himself off to the nurse's office. Not when the wolves lurked around every corner, preying upon the weak and the vulnerable.

Oga usually sided with the idea of survival of the fittest and every man for himself, even when it came to his friends. Oga figured if a friend could stand up for themselves, then it was disrespectful to interfere with their fight. But Furuichi was a wimp. A good friend, but a real wimp.

"Well," said Furuichi with as much cheer as he could muster, "I sure feel like a real idiot." Oga vigorously nodded his head in agreement as he half-carried, half-dragged Furuichi down the halls. Baby Be'el was vocal in his own agreement with the assessment of Furuichi's lacking intelligence. "Please, you guys, don't strain yourself disagreeing with me," Furuichi muttered.

"You sprained your ankle yourself, you idiot."

"Dah!" Baby Be'el fist-pumped enthusiastically.

Furuichi no doubt felt like a heel. A very painful, throbbing heel. "Yes, I am quite aware of the painful mess that is my ankle, Oga."

"You _slipped_ on a _banana peel_ that Baby dropped. I didn't even know it was possible to happen in real life. I thought it only happened in really lousy comedies."

"Dah!"

"Hence why I feel like an idiot. I manage to survive _every_ single battle you drag me into with very little harm – including the ones where I get kidnapped and _beaten_ – and the worst injury this year happens from my own friends. It's a sad world, Oga, when I can survive _your_ enemies, but my friends damn near kill me."

"Dah!"

Oga snorted. "It's just a sprained ankle." He half-smiled at Furuichi's sputtered protests. "I'm sure," he put in smoothly, "that you can still outrun most everything on crutches if you have to. I have faith in your ability to escape further harm."

The school nurse was smoking a cigarette and playing a pink Nintendo DS – Pokemon, from the sounds of it – when Oga slammed open the office door and pulled Furuichi through. Urameshi Yuusuke was tilted back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. "Any gushing blood?" Urameshi asked, not even glancing up from his game.

"No," Oga replied as he dragged Furuichi over to the closest hospital bed and deposited him not-so-gently upon its rumpled surface.

"Broken bones poking through the skin?"

Oga glanced at Furuichi's ankle, which he was sure was probably going to be a spectacularly swollen mess. "No."

"Any ingestion of poison or chance of electrocution?"

"Just a sprained ankle."

Urameshi still hadn't looked up from his game. "Then _why_ did you even bother coming here?" Oga forced Furuichi's shoe off and peeled away the slightly stinky sock. Furuichi squeaked and gripped the bed's covers, his face going white from the pain. Urameshi sighed, and Oga fought down the temptation of smashing the DS into fine particles. "Fine, fine. Let me just catch this shiny Arbok and – well, shit. I accidentally KO'ed the little fucker. So much for that." With an irritated grunt, Urameshi turned off the DS and straightened up.

"Hmmm. Sprained ankles. Let me see here…" He searched the cluttered desktop until he found and flipped through a battered and blood-splattered First Aid book. Furuichi sat upright with an incredulous expression.

"What kind of nurse are you?" Oga asked suspiciously as Furuichi loudly demanded to know which vendor machine Urameshi got his license out of.

Urameshi glanced through the book, and then tossed it back onto the desk. He accidentally displaced some junk from the cluttered desktop onto the floor, which was ignored. "I just keep the book for pictures anyway since I can't read." His grin was vicious and evil as he cracked his knuckles. "As for my job… Well, my superiors figured that since I'm best at taking people apart, I oughta know how to put 'em back together again."

Furuichi's ankle twitched as he laughed nervously. "Oh, look at that. I think I'm cured." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand. His sprained ankle collapsed beneath him, and Oga caught him before he could hit the floor. Furuichi whimpered as Oga wordlessly pitched him back in the bed.

Urameshi laughed again; this time, he sounded light-hearted and young as he smothered his cigarette by casually pinching the burning tip between his fingertips. "Relax, kid. I know how to patch up minor injuries like this." He tucked the cigarette behind his ear and then rummaged through a desk drawer before withdrawing ace bandages. Then, after a moment of consideration, he also reached into a near-by insulated lunch box and took out a sandwich baggy filled with still-frozen ice cream. He dropped the sandwich baggy on top of Furuichi's ankle. "Best I can do for ice at the moment. It'll help with the pain and swelling, though."

Oga frowned. "Why is your ice cream in a plastic baggy?"

Urameshi shrugged. "It's homemade ice cream from a friend's wife. I wasn't going to argue in how she stored it – not when it's free, and, like, the nectar of the gods. You," he shook a stern finger at Furuichi, "have no idea of how privileged you are to even be _touching_ this nectar."

Oga suspected that Furuichi would've preferred a nurse who was a woman, which then would make such incompetence easy to overlook, as long as good-natured pampering was involved. And to be fair to Furuichi, Oga had also been expecting a woman nurse. (Or, at least, he _hadn't_ been expecting a chain-smoking, unshaven musclehead of a man the first day of school when the first years were introduced to the staff. Then again, given the general population of Ishiyama High, they were probably very lucky that the school nurse wasn't a serial axe murderer.)

"You smell like a stale cigarette butt," Furuichi complained, his voice pitched high with barely-suppressed panic.

"Hey, beggars can't be choosers," Urameshi replied as he became tangled up in the length of ace bandage he was trying to unravel. "Too bad you don't have a cut. I've gotten really handy with the stapler and loads of experience with cuts the last few weeks. Not so much sprained ankles, though."

Baby Be'el seemed unusually still and complacent. Usually the brat would be squirming around as he tried to look and reach for everything. Oga turned his attention on his ward – and found the brat reaching for what appeared to be a stuffed mutant blue penguin with gigantic glass eyes. The stuffed penguin sat on a higher shelf, just outside of Baby Be'el's reach.

What kind of pansy kept a stuffed penguin around? And should he care that Baby Be'el was trying to claim something that didn't belong to him? Oga hadn't liked the look of the school nurse from the first day, so Oga sidled closer to the shelf. Because he really didn't care what sort of damage Baby Be'el might do to Urameshi's toy, so long as it was a lot.

"Da!" Be'el declared triumphantly, his fingertips brushing against the side of the stuffed penguin. Which jerked back from Baby Be'el grasp with an obnoxious cry of, "Puu!" and then used its ears to flutter off the shelf to the other side of the room. It gracelessly plopped itself on Urameshi's head. Despite the fluid movement that indicated it was a living creature, it still had the blank, unblinking gaze of a stuffed toy.

"Uuuuuhhhhh…" Furuichi shut his mouth at the dark look Urameshi gave him. Oga thought perhaps he was meant to be intimidated when Urameshi also gave him the same look, but Oga didn't sense anything remotely close to a worthy opponent in the school nurse. Especially not with a silly mutant blue penguin sitting in the slicked-back hair.

(And because the Universe operates in a constant state of Irony, Oga didn't exactly cut the most intimidating figure as Baby Be'el eyes teared up from the penguin's rejection and a string of snot dribbled from his nose onto Oga's mussed hair.)

"Aren't you a little old for a mechanical stuffed toy?" Oga asked snidely.

Urameshi turned back to the ace bandage. "Puu isn't mechanical, and he isn't a toy. He's actually my spirit beast. Hmmm. Are you supposed to wrap these clockwise or counterclockwise?"

"What's a spirit beast?" Furuichi asked as he gripped the bedsheets in trepidation.

"Hmmm?" Uremashi moved the baggy of slightly-melted ice cream from Furuichi's ankle, and then lifted the ankle itself. Furuichi bit back a yelp, and then squeezed his eyes shut as Urameshi deftly wrapped the ace bandage in a figure eight around the ankle, binding it tightly. "How does that feel?" Urameshi asked as he dropped the foot back onto the bed. Furuichi winced when his foot hit the surface, and then he wiggled his toes.

"Is it supposed to be tight enough to cut off the circulation to my toes?"

"I guess we won't know until your toes turn gangrenous and rot off of your foot."

"_What_?"

Urameshi rolled his eyes as he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and stuck it between his lips. "Kidding, kid. Your toes feel numb because of the ice cream, probably. I'll give you a pair of crutches to hobble around with for the next week. Don't put any weight on it, and remember to ice it two or three times a day. Ah, now where did I put those crutches?" Urameshi touched a fingertip against the end of his cigarette, frowning in thought. "Come to think of it, the last pair of crutches was a lot more fragile than the person whose skull I knocked in. So… hmmmm, that won't work." He dropped his hand away and stood, smoke trailing from the lit cigarette. Scratching his head beneath the penguin's fuzzy butt, Urameshi marched over to an office window, threw it open, and then stuck his head through. "HEY, KURAMA, HOW SOON CAN YOU GET ME SOME CRUTCHES?"

An answer, unintelligible to Oga's ears, seemed to drift back across a distance.

"BUT I KINDA NEED THEM RIGHT NOW. I GOT A STUDENT WITH A SPRAINED ANKLE." Another unintelligible answer. "OKAY. I'LL HOLD THE KID UNTIL YOU COME IN." And then Urameshi walked back to his desk, sat in his chair and tilted it backwards to balance on two legs as he propped his feet on the desktop, and turned on his Pokemon game.

The awkward silence was broken only by the tinny music from the Pokemon game.

"Is that it?" Furuichi demanded.

Urameshi gestured. "There's some lollypops in the dish over there, but you were a lousy patient so I don't think you deserve one."

"Yeah? Well, _your_ bedside manner sucks."

"Don't blame me. I told them I'd make a lousy nurse." Urameshi hunkered down over his game. "I just got the short straw here."

"So, about this spirit beast of yours…"

Oga decided they really needed to address something more important than a mutant blue penguin – something that he was still trying to work out in his mind. "How did you light the cigarette without a match or a lighter?" he asked.

Urameshi slowly looked up from his DS, a look of sinister amusement in his eyes. "Who wants to know?" His voice was soft, and a dangerous undercurrent made it sound deeper. But before anything else could be said or done, the office door swung open and the unassuming groundskeeper who had lately kept Hilda in a perpetual state of worry stepped through.

Even Urameshi looked surprised. "Hey, that's kinda fast, even for you.

"So, this is you doing your job, Yuusuke?" The groundskeeper had two crudely fashioned wooden crutches slung over his shoulder. Urameshi grinned, turned off his game, and stood.

"You know you'd've made a better nurse than me. And you probably could've gotten away with wearing the white dress and cute little hat – hey!"

The groundskeeper snatched the cigarette away and doused it in the unused ashtray that sat precariously on top of a stack of student files. "No smoking on school grounds, Yuusuke."

The mutated penguin seemed to come alive then. "Puu!" It perked up and waved its wings – or where they ear flaps? – in the air and did a happy little jig on Urameshi's head. The groundskeeper laughed and reached up to ruffle the penguin's shock of black hair. This seemed to satisfy the penguin, as it cooed happily.

"Your soul is showing. How unusual, Yuusuke. Is it because of these two?" The groundskeeper turned to face Oga and Baby Be'el, with a face that was gentle, open, and smiling.

Baby Be'el whimpered from on top of Oga's head and tightened his grip on Oga's hair. "I don't like you," Oga told the groundskeeper. "Or your shit-eating grin." (He ignored Furuichi's appalled embarrassment, palpable even from across the room.) Minamino Shuichi merely shrugged at Oga's attitude, his expression never changing. He brought the crutches over to Furuichi for his use.

Oga turned back to Urameshi. Minamino didn't strike him as being particularly strong, but Be'el didn't react in fear to much of anything that wasn't a cicada. Oga made a mental note to pounce on Minamino later. But the school nurse, on the other hand… "How strong are you?" Oga asked. He hadn't heard of anyone challenging Urameshi, but that was probably because the delinquents respected nurses (even if they were chain-smoking, stapler-wielding, male muscleheads).

Urameshi actually seemed to give Oga's question due consideration. "Hmmm. Well, based upon seeing what you recently did to the MK5, Himekawa, Kanzaki, _and_ the local environment… Well, I'd say that I'm strong enough to turn you into a mushy mess without getting bruised."

"Yuusuke!" Minamino glared across the room.

"What? It's true, Kurama. When I was his age, I-"

"Why I am doing your job? You should be helping Furuichi-kun here. And I have some plants to prune. Excuse me." As Minamino left the room, he snagged Oga's elbow and pulled him along. "Besides, this conversation needs to stop before it grows out of control."

Oga tried to plant his heels because no one dragged _him_ where he didn't want to go, but the skinny gardener was a hell of a lot stronger than he would've guessed.

"To be fair," Urameshi called after them, "I bet the effort of beating Oga would make me break out in a light sweat."

"Ignore him," Minamino told Oga as they walked away from the nurse's office. "Yuusuke is known for his exaggerated bragging."

Except that Urameshi hadn't spoken with exaggeration, and didn't seem much like a pompous brag. It was said in the same straightforward manner that Oga would have used if he said that yes, he was taking care of a baby demon king; the same manner that Hilda would have used to say that Baby Be'el was expected to one day destroy the world.

And so Oga considered the chance of Urameshi being stronger than he was, and just how amusing it would be if Urameshi got attached to the naked baby demon king while also carrying that mutant penguin spirit thingy of his. "What kind of nickname is Kurama?" he asked Minamino, as if he wasn't at all plotting on ambushing the school nurse when classes were dismissed for the day.

Minamino's answering smile was sinister enough that the hair on the back of Oga's neck stood on end. "It's just an old nickname, I'm afraid. Think nothing of it."

Even if he didn't know why, Oga suddenly understood why Baby Be'el felt intimidated.

* * *

**additional author's notes:** Well, that chapter was rather long for this story. So it will be some days before I update again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:**

Let's talk more about class, people! Well, not education class, although this is intended to be a lesson. Rather, let's talk about the difference in demonic classes. There is a difference in the different classes, although you can still have low, medium, and high ends of each class. Take, for instance, your E Class. They're not smart, not strong, and are quite violent, but probably be easily trounced by your average Ichiyama High delinquent. That's just sad, man. And now, in comparison to the E Class is the D Class. D Class is, by comparison, super human! They'd… probably give the strongest students of Ichiyama High a good run for their money. And up you go in classes, each one becoming stronger in strength, intelligence, and ability, until you reach A class.

Now, A Class against D Class? That's like comparing a toy tonka truck to a massive semi truck. And A Class compared to the S Class? Well, the S-class is at least five hundred times stronger than upper A Class. It's like comparing Furuichi and Bahamut in an arm-wrestling contest!

As mentioned in the previous chapter, there's only about 20 known S-class demons. Of those _currently_ alive, this would include Yuusuke, Kurama, Hiei, Mukuru, and Yomi. All of whom have their own special roles to play in this story.

* * *

Oga decided to lurk around the corner beyond the school staff's entrance for the chance of pouncing on Urameshi. Seated on one of the upturned trashcans just outside of the entrance was a preteen whose dark hair was pulled back in two pigtails. She wore a forest-green and white first-year boy's uniform from a nearby middle school.

Oga didn't say anything. He just sat down beside the girl on the upturned trashcan.

"You waiting for someone, too?" the girl asked as she lightly swung her legs and knocked her heels against the trashcan. Oga shrugged. He felt the girl study him for a moment. "What's with the baby? Can't you at least slap a diaper on him?"

Baby Be'el shook his fist at the girl. "Dah!"

"Yeah? Figures. You guys always like to let things just hang out." The girl watched the birds flying overhead before she said, "I'm waiting for my dad. He works here at the school."

Oga didn't ask her who her dad was. He didn't care.

"Someday, I want to be a student here."

The only person that Oga really knew had wanted to come to Ishiyama had been Furuichi. Oga came on default, because his record of brawling in middle school and appalling grades didn't exactly open many doors. At least his parents figured that any school that his older sister went to was good enough for Oga. Oga still didn't care enough to ask any questions of the girl when a couple of delinquents popped around the corner and spotted them.

"Oh ho!" said the first, who was the usual Big, Tall, and Ugly. "We have here one of them wannabe punks!"

"Give us your lunch money," said the second, who was also Big, Tall, and Ugly.

"_Idiot_," said the third, who was Short, Bald, and Spotted. "It's the end of the day. She's not going to have any lunch money. And she's in a boy's uniform, so she's probably one of them wannabe trannies, instead of a punk."

The girl tilted her head and looked at them with mild irritation. "Do _you_ have any lunch money?"

Big and Ugly #1 glanced (somewhat nervously) at Oga. But since Oga was ignoring them, #1 took this as an unspoken agreement that Oga wouldn't interfere. He chuckled. "My money isn't for lunch, since I eat little trannies. Raw." He smiled at the girl – his teeth had been filed down in points. Big and Ugly #2 and Shorty also smiled. They cracked their knuckles, and advanced together as one menacing unit.

Twelve seconds later, the girl reseated herself on the pile of groaning, broken bodies, and was flipping through their wallets. She sneered and pocketed the spare change that she found. "Cheapskates." The staff entrance opened, and Urameshi exited. The girl brightened and lunged forward to tackle Urameshi in a tight hug. "Papa!"

Wait… what?

"Hideo-chan, did _you_ do this?" Urameshi asked with a serious expression on his face as he indicated the bodies with his smoldering cigarette. The blue penguin, still seated on top of his head, shook its own head and tsked in disapproval.

Somehow, it didn't surprise Oga that Urameshi had given his daughter a masculine name.

"They'll live, Papa," she said disdainfully as she stopped hugging him.

Urameshi rubbed the stubble on his chin in thought. "Right. Right. And, as the school nurse, I wouldn't be doing my job if I just left them like that." Urameshi pulled a stapler from his pants pocket and advanced on the trio with a wicked glee. "Thirty points," he added as an afterthought.

"Fifty," said Hideo. "I didn't even skin my knuckles. See?" She showed Urameshi the back of her hands.

"Fifty, then. But minus twenty points because your mom found out about the skinheads last week."

"I still say that some good dentures would correct everything, Papa. But that brings my tally of points to three hundred and thirty." She watched a few moments while Urameshi inspected the three; he was visibly disappointed to find that they were bruised, incoherent, and (unfortunately) bloodless.

"Rats." Urameshi stuck the stapler back into his pocket. "So you're looking to cash in your points?"

Hideo smiled brightly. "I saw these great steel-toed combat boots the other day, just like what Mukuro-san wears, and-"

"Excuse me," Oga interrupted. "I want to fight."

Hideo's response was immediate. "Sure!"

Urameshi grabbed her shoulder as she pounced past him to jump Oga, and pulled her back to his side. "No," he sternly told Oga. His penguin seemed to be voice agreement. And to his daughter, even more sternly, he said, "_Hell_ no."

Hideo sulked, especially when Oga said, "I want to fight Urameshi-kun." And then, because he didn't know if Hideo answered to Urameshi-kun – given her boy's name and uniform – he added, "The older one. Not the girl."

"No," Urameshi said again, just as stern as he had with his daughter.

The more he saw of Urameshi, the more appropriate the man seemed for Baby Be'el. He encouraged his kid to fight, negotiated points based on style, and seemed to be – what had Alaindelon said? Strong, thinks-nothing-of-fellow-man… Oga wasn't sure about the arrogant part, but that one was probably negotiable anyway – a pretty good fit. And Baby Be'el could benefit from having a twisted, violent older sister.

"Why not?" Oga and Hideo asked together, both trying not to sound sulky.

"Because it wouldn't be a fight between you and me, _boy_. Not like between my daughter here and those miscreants over there. I don't pick on weaklings, especially with a symbiotic parasite clinging to their shoulders. It would be a massacre – an annihilation. Besides, as a staff member of Ishiyama High, it would be unbecoming of me to smear you into a bloody paste on the cement."

Hideo glanced sideways at her father. "You smeared George into a bloody paste a few months ago, and even _Tsuneo-chan_ could beat him up."

"Not a fair comparison to make – the twins are bloodthirsty monsters and George isn't a student here. Besides, George interrupted the romantic dinner between your mother and I. He's lucky he was able to drag his body back to Koenma with my answer. No," he turned back to Oga, "there will be no fighting. You just aren't strong enough for that."

Oga was willing to retract that earlier assumption of Urameshi not being arrogant. He gave Urameshi an evil, bloodthirsty grin. "Can't? Or won't?" he challenged as he hopped off the trashcan and stalked into Urameshi's personal space. Urameshi smelled of antiseptic and stale cigarettes.

Urameshi exhaled a lungful of cigarette smoke into Oga's face. Then he reached one finger out towards Oga's forehead. Baby Be'el whimpered and tightened his grip on Oga's hair. "Can't," he whispered regretfully. "I have more power in my index finger than you do in your entire body."

Oga pushed his forehead into Urameshi's finger as his grin widened. "Prove it."

Urameshi flicked his finger.

Oga saw a lot of sky as he flew through the air, before finally crashing into the cement wall on the other side of the school campus. When he finally managed to extract himself and a dazed Baby Be'el from the rubble, he knew that he was absolutely right – that Urameshi Yuusuke would make a better father for Baby Be'el than Oga did. And the sooner, the better!


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday came. Hilda presented Oga and his companions from freshly-baked cookies and punch as Furuichi and Oga studied. Alaindelon sat on the bed with his arms crossed and his legs folded, with an open mathbook in his lap. He had a bandana wrapped around his forehead. Furuichi and Oga were bent over their mathbooks with papers scattered all over the bedroom floor. Baby Be'el was napping on one such pile of scattered papers. Furuichi's sprained ankle was propped up on a pillow with a bag of half-melted ice on top of it. Oga looked resentful. He also had a gigantic purple bruise on his forehead that spread down the bridge of his nose and up into his hairline. He still hadn't admitted to Hilda where the bruise came from.

"If you're going to be the Contractor for the young master, you should at least be able to balance a checkbook," Hilda told Oga as he turned narrowed eyes on her. She knelt down and began passing out the cookies. "I've heard rumors that your math teacher isn't the best-"

"Understatement of the year," Furuichi muttered.

Hilda ignored him. "-but lucky for all of us that Alaindelon volunteered to help."

Alaindelon nodded, his expression very solemn and serious. "Transferring through different dimensions is a complicated process that requires extensive understanding of mathematics, and extensive calculations. One wrongly-placed decimal point – the mishap of forgetting to carry the one – could result in turning one's passengers inside out. Literally. It's difficult getting that much blood out of your insides."

From the looks on their faces, Oga and Furuichi were considering the consequences of being turned inside-out within a dimensional transferring demon, and the graphic thought left them rather queasy. They looked at Hilda's provided cookies with some level of nausea.

Before Hilda could redirect them back to numbers, Oga's mother knocked on the door and poked her head into the room. "Ah, I do hate to interrupt," she said, her expression nervous, "but there are some _really_ important people to see you." Hilda tensed at the scent of demons that came into the room with Oga's mother. Behind Hilda, she felt Alaindelon also tensing.

"Thank you," said a voice on the other side of the door. "We'll take it from here."

Oga's mother sent Hilda a look of panic before stepping away and disappearin. Two women entered the room. They didn't seem at all surprised by the mess or the audience.

"Hello." The first one was short with sea-green hair and large red eyes; she looked as graceful and as delicate as a freshly-bloomed rose. She wore a pinstriped gray skirtsuit with a flower bud – a tusp, Hilda was dismayed to see - tucked in a button hole. "I am honored to meet you all." She bowed in greeting to everyone, and then knelt down beside Furuichi without permission. She set her large briefcase on the table and ignored the mathbooks.

Her companion was tall and androgynous in face, broad at the shoulder but feminine in figure. A simple white bandanna swept orange hair up and away from the woman's face, and even partially covered the heavily-scared right side of her skull. Her right eye looked mechanical – like a scope – and she wore a pantsuit that was the same style and color of her companion's. Unlike her companion, who wore cute black kitten-heeled shoes, she wore steel-toed combat boots that were well-worn and suspiciously stained. This woman didn't bow or otherwise acknowledge the others as she seated herself crosslegged beside the first woman. Even despite the heavy scaring on one side, she was still remarkably handsome, and she held herself with genuine air of power and dignity.

Hilda struggled to breathe through her growing panic. She held herself rigid, her hands on her knees and her eyes shuttered. She saw the humans casting her curious looks. Baby Be'el was, thankfully, still fast asleep on his pile of papers.

"I am Yukina," said with the woman with green hair. Her voice was soft and gentle, and her hands graceful as she opened up the briefcase and removed a laptop. "This is Mukuro."

Hilda's grip tightened whiteknuckled on her knees. She felt her heart beating hard.

"Why the hell are you in my room?" Oga demanded. He looked two efforts away from tossing the intruders out of his room via the window.

Hilda wanted to choke him. Yukina's smile was friendly as she answered. "We've had to work overtime to catch up, Mukuro and I. I'm just a trainee and the normal workload has fallen behind because of I'm so new at this. Her regular partner had to be reassigned. Oh – I should introduce who we are!"

"You already have," said Furuichi, trying to look suave and sexy, and yet still only managing to look like an awkward adolescent desperately trying to get laid.

"She's married," Mukuro cut in. Her voice was deep and husky. "So don't even think about."

Furuichi was never one to ignore opportunity, however. Not when Mukuro had a voice that could melt chocolate. He turned his attempt of suave and sexy on Mukuro. "And you are-"

"Worlds and centuries _beyond_ your reach, boy, even if you had fully-functioning joints."

Furuichi looked crushed.

"As I was saying," Yukina began as she sent Furuichi a better-luck-next-time smile, "we're with the DMVI - the Department of Makai Visitation and Immigration – and we're doing follow-up on suspicion of unregistered and undocumented demons living in the Ningenkai." She withdrew a laptop from her briefcase and flipped it open.

"I'm all up to date," Alaindelon said rapidly. He produced a shiny-looking license card. This was thoroughly inspected by Yukina. She tilted it about in her hands, held it up to the light, and then scanned the license with a little hand-held device that was connected to her laptop. She handed the license over to Mukuro, who glanced at it.

"Transdimenisonal demons can always be relied upon to have their paperwork all up-to-date," Mukuro said. She handed it back to Alaindelon, whose hands were steady. As she pulled her hand back, Mukuro's fingertips caressed the wooden crutches that had been stinking of demon since the day Furuichi received them. Her right hand appeared as mechanical as her right eye, with strips of scar tissue interlaced with wires and rods.

"Now, about you…" Mukuro turned her eyes upon Hilda. The mechanical eye _whirred_ and extended to focus closely upon Hilda.

Hilda felt so tense and brittle that a single breeze would make her shatter. She glanced at Baby Be'el, who was stirring from his nap. She would fight for him – she could bare her teeth and nails and throw herself at anything that threatened her charge. She could bury the evidence where it would never be discovered. She could hold her own in most fights – and if she fell, then she absolutely intended to take her attackers with her.

But she was so far outclassed by the ruthless Mozaku who had been one of the three original demon kings that ruled uncontested for five hundred years… Hilda may as well be standing beside Furuichi as his pathetic attempt at flirting was shot down.

"I'm afraid I have nothing," Hilda said as she bent double in a deeply respectful bow. It took everything she had not to shake, to appear calm and serene. She would run and live another day, and find her way back to Baby Be'el. To fight would be to die. Sacrificing her life would mean nothing against Mukuro, so she would sacrifice that which meant more than her life: her pride. "I don't have the required documentation or approval to be in the Ningenkai. I shall take my leave promptly."

"Oh dear." Yukina's eyes were wide and filled with dismay. Mukuro said nothing as her gaze seemed to burn into Hilda's. "I do thank you for your honesty and cooperation, but I'm afraid we simply wouldn't let you just go as easily as that. What class are you?" Yukina asked as her fingers posed over her keyboard.

Mukuro, who gaze burning into Hilda's, answered first. "Upper C."

Yukina made a sad little noise in her throat as she began typing rapidly. "Oh, dear me. A C Class demon without proper documentation. But you are being cooperative, so that will surely allow for fewer demerits…"

Furuichi leaned close to Oga and whispered (rather loudly), "I think I'm missing something."

"They're probably lawyers," Oga whispered back with a sneer.

By now, Baby Be'el had awoken and was sitting upright, rubbing his eyes. He glanced from Oga, to Hilda, to Mukuro, back to Hilda- and then whiplashed back to Mukuru. "Mah!" His gaze swung rapidly from Hilda to Mukuro and back. "Dabuh ba ba dab da!" His face filled with fear and concern, Baby Be'el crawled over to Mukuro, babbling the entire time. Yukina's typing paused only for a moment, before she resumed with renewed vigor.

Mukuro kept her arms crossed and her face still, unmoving. Baby Be'el planted his butt just beside her knee. He gestured to Hilda a few times amidst his babbling, and occasionally touched Mukuro's knee with his chubby fist. His noisy speech finally trailed off into silence, his eyes wide and watery as he considered Mukuro.

Mukuro's eyes fluttered shut in thought for a moment. "You make yourself very good points, Beelzebub-sama."

Furuichi looked at Oga in askance. Oga shrugged. Hilda remained silent, not daring to hope (or breathe – she was starting to feel light-headed).

Mukuro's eyes opened. "But that doesn't discount the last six weeks that you both have been in the Ningenkai."

Baby Be'el babbled again, making big sweeping gestures with his arms. The more he spoke, the more serious he became. Mukuro nodded her head and repeatedly said "hmmm" and "I see."

After Baby Be'el finished speaking his piece, Mukuru looked at Yukina. "Beelzebub-sama _is_ correct. The Purple Treaty states that demon kings and their heirs may give approval for their citizens to seek and start due process for licenses and visas from the DMVI. As they may such give permission to their citizens, the privilege of freely moving to and from the Makai is extended to the demons kings and their heirs in Koenma-sama's Green Addendum. Give me Form SLTC-156."

Yukina's movements were flurried as she ceased her rapid typing to rifle through her briefcase for several papers, which she handed to Mukuro. After a quick thought, she also handed Mukuro a pen.

"Beelzebub-sama," Mukuro said to Baby Be'el as she began writing on the form, "it is rare that we will issue visas to the non-lower Class demons when they've already entered this world, but not unprecedented if certain conditions are met. As you have verified that Hildagarde is both a subordinate operating under your direction outside the confines of the Makai and a keeper who is required to protect your vulnerabilities while you are in the Ningenkai, I will postdate the Department's approval for her temporary work visa."

Baby Be'el nodded, his expression very solemn.

"This still doesn't exempt you or your subordinate from fulfilling the required obligations, now or in the future, and fines will still need to be paid."

"Da da mah dabu bubop bubu da."

"We of the DMVI do not accept monetary fines. The fines are given in the forms of community service, which serves a twofold purpose. First, that the demon becomes more familiar with humans and their ways, and second, that humans can learn that demons mean them no harm. That is the goal of this program – to introduce one to the other, increase understanding and empathy between each, and decrease the hatred and violence that exists between our species."

Baby Be'el nodded his head once more, accepting Mukuro's pronouncement.

"This is the visa application. I'm only issuing a three-month stay for Hildagarde, which is post-dated for the first day she entered this world. It will be her responsibility to apply for and receive any extension of time that she needs to fulfill her duties. Inkpad, Yukina-san." Yukina riffled around in her briefcase again before she found and extended such to Mukuro. Mukuro opened the inkpad and set it in front of Baby Be'el. "As the demon king heir that approved of Hildagarde's trip, I require your signature here," she flipped through the pages, "here, and here."

Very solemnly, Baby Be'el pressed his hand against the inkpad and placed his inky print at the spots that Mukuro pointed. Mukuro fanned the pages to dry them, and then handed the papers and closed inkpad to Yukina. Yukina tucked them away and then produced a small square purple card.

"I've waived the multiple tests required for the visa. As Hildagarde has been here six weeks and hasn't committed a major felony yet, I believe that she's knowledgeable enough about the local customs to stay out of trouble." Mukuro smiled suddenly with amusement as her eyes flickered to Oga. "Although it appears that the _local_ customs are beyond the norm in the first place." Mukuro filled out a few lines on the purple card, signed it, and then offered it to Hilda.

Hilda stared, still tense and feeling completely overwhelmed at what was taking place. It took a pointed nudge of an elbow from Furuichi before Hilda reached a shaking hand out to accept the visa that was being freely offered.

"The worst," said Mukuro cryptically, "is yet to come."

"Dabu dab!"

"Oh, not to fear, little lord. Hildagarde is to pay three hundred demerits in community service. That is steep, but you are too young to be pay your own fine, so I have assigned the cost – rather appropriately, I felt – to your nursemaid. As for you, the nature of your relationship with your human Contractor has been grandfathered into the Green Addendum. Our community coordinator will make contact and arrangements with Hildagarde for the required service. But because of the failure to register and apply for a visa before she left the Makai – even by your lord's permission – Hildagarde must apply for an extension directly from the King."

"That doesn't make sense," Oga interrupted. "Because the King of Hell was the one who assigned Hilda to Baby Be'el in the first place."

"Not the King," said Hilda, amazed that her voice, although soft, wasn't weak. "_The_ King. The demon who wins the All-Makai tournament every ten years is crowned _the_ King of _all_ Makai. King Beelzebub rules his territory, which is only a small part of the Makai." King Beelzebub III was A Class. Still phenomenally strong and horrendously frightful when he went all-out in his fights, and all-too-capable of crushing her into a dead nothing, but impossibly weak compared to the S Class King of All-Makai.

"Here you are," said Yukina as she extended a business card to Hilda. "This is our direct number. You call us when you only have two weeks remaining on your visa, and we will make arrangements for you to have an audience with Youko-sama."

"Is that _the_ King?" Oga asked, looking very interested.

"Yes," said Yukina cheerfully as she began to ready her laptop to be stored in the briefcase. "I transcribed our conversation," she told Mukuro. And then, to Oga, she added, "Youko-sama won his fight against Lord Enki in the final round five years ago. He was very displeased, because he never wanted to rule the Makai."

"It could be worse," Mukuro muttered. "The ruler might've been Raizen-san's grandson."

"But I thought _he_ bailed the semi-final round because Keiko-chan went into labor."

"Much to Lord Enki's dismay, yes. Before we go, there is one other matter we must address." Yukina handed a large pile of papers over to Mukuro without any prompting. This large stack of papers was set before Baby Be'el. He had lean to the side to look past the stack at Mukuro. "In order to validate the Contract between human and demon – in this case, a contract which is meant to draw forth your own demonic powers – you must fill out the required paperwork to qualify for a working license while both you and your human are here in the Ningenkai, despite the gandfather clause. Reikai, after all, frowns very heavily upon the destruction of all humankind."

"What does paperwork have to do with the destruction of humankind?" Furuichi asked.

Yukina giggled. "Silly. The paperwork is what holds the universe together. If the paperwork stops, then the Reikai would self-destruct. And if the Reikai self-destructs, then it takes the other two Worlds with it. So we all play our part in keeping the universe alive and well."

"Yeah? Well, who's going to _make_ us do the paperwork?" Oga demanded sullenly as he eyed the stack of paperwork the same way Baby Be'el did. Alaindelon slapped a beefy hand over Oga's mouth.

"Ignore him, Mukuro-sama," Alaindelon apologized as he bowed deeply. His grip also forced Oga to bend at the waist in a mockery of a bow. He ignored Oga gnawing his hand. "He's an ignorant human who doesn't understand the importance of the DMVI."

Yukina looked aghast at the idea of paperwork not being completed. Mukuro's eyes glinted as she stood up. Baby Be'el hurried to flash Mukuro a thumb's up. "Mah. Mah mah mah mah!" Mukuro stared at baby Be'el for a long moment, and then tilted her head forward in acknowledgement – the first such move she had made the entire visit.

To Oga, Mukuro said, "You shall have to ask Hildegard why I hold the position as Head Enforcer. You may bring the completed paperwork with you when Hildagarde meets with the King, since he's also the one who must approve of the license for your Contract." And then she disappeared, as if she had never been there.

Yukina clicked her tongue as she finished packing everything away. She bowed deeply and respectfully to Baby Be'el. "She's always in such a hurry. But if you have any questions or need any assistance, please do not hesitate to call us." She placed another business card on top of Baby Be'el stack. "We are here to help make your time in the Ningenkai as easy and hassle-free as possible." And then she, too, disappeared.

"Explain what to me?" Oga asked as soon as Alaindelon removed his hand and wiped it clean on Furuichi's shirt tail.

Hilda thought quickly as she slipped the visa and business card into her cleavage. "In order to enforce the rules and regulations on demons – some of them very powerful – and to deport those who are in the human world illegally, the Enforcer must be strong enough to be successful."

Oh." Oga's face filled with glee. "Then that Mukuro person must be really strong!"

Baby Be'el squealed and shook his head hard enough to nearly topple over.

"Mukuro-sama," said Alaindelon very carefully, "is Head Enforcer because there are only a handful of demons strong in enough in all of Makai whom she'd be challenged to defeat. Said handful is rumored to be personal allies and friends of hers."

"So, she's really _awesomely_ strong!"

Alaindelon loomed over Oga, who flinched downward and tried to sink through the floor. "You do not have to worry about dying were you to fight her, boy. She is legendary for her cunning, ruthless cruelty. She's had centuries to perfect her tortures, so that you would be always held from the brink of death but trapped in the most exquisite agony. You and Baby Be'el would be entrapped to her _forever_, as slaves working in the worst conditions in the filthy pits of the Makai."

"…oh."

Furuichi's expression was decidedly perverted. "Mmmm. Exquisite slavery…."

* * *

**Author's notes**: I... I really, really like Mukuro. ;_;


	7. Chapter 7

It was Urameshi Hideo who pounced on Oga next sunny Saturday afternoon and challenged him to a battle. Hilda was busy filling out Oga and Baby Be'el's paperwork with all the fury of a thousand grammar gestapo on the rampage with red correctional pens, and Furuichi just wanted to loaf around (milking every moment that he could of Oga's older sister being kind to him out of his sprained ankle, and it wasn't going to last for long, so Oga decided that he wasn't going to hang around to witness the fallout). Oga was bored and so was Baby Be'el, so they decided together that they would visit the near-by playground.

Oga hadn't exactly been expecting a little ragamuffin preteen, wearing a brightly-colored purple track suit, to kick him in the shin and challenge him in front of one of the kiddy slides.

"Buuuu!"

And the kick kinda stung, especially with those brand-new steel-toed combat boats that she wore. "Who are you again?" Oga asked as he looked down upon the girl with as much disdain as he could muster.

"I bet I could get a hundred points if I fought you," Hideo said slyly, rubbing her chin and tapping a foot.

"You won't win against me."

She spat. "It's not the winning or the losing, it's the fighting!" She raised both fists and hopped from foot to foot. "So put up your dukes!"

"Where's your parents?" Oga demanded.

Hideo sighed and stilled. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "Papa is doing the couch potato thing on a park bench somewhere over there, watching the twins. Mama's at home, napping. We don't have to worry about any interruptions or interference with our fight."

"No," Oga said. "I don't like to fight girls." He jammed his hands into his pocket and headed off in the direction that she had pointed. With a growl, Hideo jumped on his back (right beside Baby Be'el), and began pounding on his head with her fists.

Oga ignored the pounding as he walked across the playground. He stopped beside a bench, where a figure dressed in rumpled jeans and a checkered shirt was slumped backwards over the bench, his arms resting across the wood. "Oi." Oga nudged Urameshi Yuusuke with his foot. "Your urchin has taken on the role of a symbiotic parasite."

Urameshi didn't even sit upright. "Hideo-chan, you're too young to be playing with boys."

"I'm not playing, Papa!" Hideo sounded indignant as she continued her pounding. She ignored Baby Be'el curiously poking her in the ear.

Urameshi finally sat upright with a dejected sigh. "You're _too_ young for _boys_. Look at how it ruined your grandmother's life."

Hideo stopped the pounding out of embarrassment. "Papa!" She hunched down against Oga's broad shoulder as her eyes darted side to side. "Do we have to have this conversation right now?"

Urameshi held up a lecturing finger. "Why, your grandmother was only three years older than you are right now when she had me, so that's why your Mama and I made sure we used protection during lovemaking when Mama was still in high school-"

"Eeek!" Hideo jumped off of Oga's back and slapped her hands over her ears.

"Unfortunately," Urameshi continued blithely, "we didn't know that antibiotics would lessen affect the birth control when Mama was in college, and that was how _you_ came about."

"I can't hear you! Lalalala!" Hideo's immediate retreat to the other side of the playground left a dust trail. Urameshi watched as she moved out of hearing range, and then slumped over backwards on the bench again, a smug smile on his face.

"Fight me," Oga said as Baby Be'el slithered off his back and crawled away.

Urameshi raised a fist. "Feel free to beat yourself senseless against this. I'm comfortable where I'm at."

Baby Be'el crawled over to where a small two-year-old toddler sat quietly watching the others, her dark hair pulled up in one stiff ponytail on the top of her head. She wore a pair of pink-striped overalls with a white shirt, and she held a mutated stuffed penguin in the crook of her elbow. Baby Be'el's eyes flickered from her to the penguin, and then he snagged a long ear. Urameshi and Oga both looked over at the resulting scream of indignation.

The toddler shrieked "NOOOOO!" as the penguin was yanked out of her arms.

"Dabu!" Baby Be'el flashed a victory sign at the toddler as he squeezed his prize close.

Said prize seemed awfully alarmed. "Puuu?"

"MINE!" The toddler grabbed the other ear and pulled back. Baby Be'el frowned and maintained his tight grip on the ear.

"Puuuuuuu!" The penguin's eyes bulged and its little feet kicked desperately in the air as it was pulled taut between the two delinquent toddlers. "Puu puu puu puuuuuuu!"

The toddler socked Baby Be'el in the nose with her other hand, and Baby Be'el released the ear in shock and pain. His eyes watered as he covered his bloody nose.

"Uh oh," said Oga. And then he lunged as Baby Be'el began crackling.

"Puuu!" The mutated penguin launched free of the toddler and intercepted the bolt of electricity that Baby Be'el released before Oga could reach him. The penguin flopped to the earth, charcoaled and crackling slightly.

Oga swept Baby Be'el up. "Hey, hey, no crying, remember? Real men don't cry, even when they're punched in the nose. _Especially_ if they're punched in the nose by a girl. And we don't zap 'em, either."

The toddler burst into a high-pitched wail as she grabbed the penguin by an ear. "PAPA!" she cried, racing to where Urameshi sat. She dragged the penguin behind her on the ground. It winced with every jostle and bump. "He kilt Puu!"

"No, he didn't," Urameshi replied nonchalantly, as if his kid was routinely saved from Certain Death By Several Thousand Volts of Electricity by a mutant blue penguin. The toddler fisted his pants and buried her face against his knee. "Puu's okay, Satoshi-chan." As if to assure its young charge that it was indeed still alive, Puu coughed up a small black cloud. With a gasp, Satoshi pulled Puu into a tight hug, which made the beady eyes bulge again.

"I sorry, Puu!" Satoshi cried. "I makes you better with kiss." She proceeded to plant little smooches on top of Puu's head.

Baby Be'el whimpered and reached a hand out to Puu. "Mah?"

Satoshi turned and gave him a ferocious glare. "No! Mine!" Baby Be'el wilted at her shaking fist and sniffled again. But he didn't seem likely to let loose another large bolt of electricity.

"Actually, mine," Urameshi corrected. He carefully extracted Puu from Satoshi's grasp and plopped the mutated penguin on top of his head. Puu sighed in relief and rolled its eyes heavenward with gratefulness.

"I wants one, Papa," Satoshi said with a pout.

"Yeah, well, you go right on ahead and get yourself killed before your life is meant to end by socking baby demon lords in the honker, and I'll see what I can swing with the Great Diapered One."

Satoshi looked as if she thought Urameshi might have been joking. Oga hoped he wasn't; it sounded ruthless and cruel, which was exactly what he needed to foist Baby Be'el onto the other man. Urameshi didn't precisely fit the traditional sense of evil, but he figured that any father who attempted to give his (not-quite) teenaged daughter sex lessons in public definitely qualified as evil.

"Fight me," Oga said again.

"Bit busy mediating with my toddler, kid," Urameshi said. Then he rolled his eyes at another wailing cry. "_Now_ what?" An older woman, a young boy sobbing and rubbing his eyes balanced on her left hip, pulled along another toddler by her right ear over to them. This toddler was identical to Satoshi, right down to the pink-striped overalls and bristly pony-tail. She, however, was valiantly trying not to cry.

"Excuse me," huffed the old woman indignantly, "your _brat_ kicked my grandson."

"He bites me!" the toddler cried, trying to twist about to glare at the older woman, but was restricted from the grip on her ear. The old woman shook the toddler in her rage.

"He bit you _after_ you _punched_ him, you little monster!"

"Is this true, Tsuneo-chan?" Urameshi asked sternly. The old woman released Tsuneo, who turned around and kicked her in the ankle. Then she dodged the old woman's grab and scampered to hide behind Urameshi's knee, right beside her twin. "You know better than to get caught," he told them.

"I insist you discipline your brats!" The old woman shook her finger in Urameshi's face. "They're going to grow up to be hoodlums and delinquents and whores, the lot of them! And what _is_ that filthy thing on top of your head?"

"What's wrong with being a delinquent?" Oga asked defensively. Puu looked offended at being called filthy.

Urameshi shrugged, and dropped one large hand to rest on top of both little heads. "They're a work in progress, but I have every hope in them becoming the best delinquents in their daycare. They're already on their way to being known as the Monsters of Kurenai Playground. My only hope is they don't follow in my own mother's steps when she had me at fourteen. I've been trying to educate my girls on proper sexual protection so they're well-versed by the time hormones and senselessness hits." He flashed the old woman a thumb's up with his other hand. She huffed indignantly once again, and stomped away. Urameshi cackled wickedly. "Kurama's right – this passive-aggressive shit is awesome."

Tsuneo stuck her tongue out at the woman's retreating back.

"Did you _really_ kick the kid?" Urameshi asked as she pulled herself up onto the park bench and sat next to him.

"I kicks him in the balls!" She looked inordinately proud of herself.

"We don't kick anyone in the balls unless it's deserved. What did he do?"

Tsuneo pouted and crossed her arms in front of herself. "He hits me with his truck. So I punches him. So he bites me. So I kicks him."

"You know, Mama would say that two wrongs don't make a right. Or in this case, four wrongs." The twins looked at Urameshi with identical frowns. Satoshi tugged at Urameshi's pants.

"I has to pee, Papa."

"Oh? Huh. Your sister should take you then. Hideo!" Urameshi yelled.

A distant call answered him from the other side of the playground. "No and you can't make me!"

Urameshi scratched his head. "I'm already having nightmares of that one being a teenager," he muttered. "Hey, Keiji-chan. Take your sister to the restroom."

"Okay, Papa," said a voice above Oga's head. He looked up in time to see a five year old jump off the top bar of the swingset overhead and land on the ground beside the bench. "Come on, Tsu-chan," said the girl as she extended her hand and grabbed Tsuneo's. She wore a fluffy yellow skirt and blue shirt with billowing sleeves. Wilted flowered were woven in her waist-length braid of light brown hair. Oga watched as the two left.

"Why are all your girls named like boys?" Oga asked. "That's just cruel, man."

"Well, I wanted sons, but the only things I seem to shoot are X chromosomes. My wife's cool though. She said I could name our girls whatever I wanted, although she was under the influence of narcotics at the time following Hideo's birth, so it probably wasn't admissible."

Oga held Baby Be'el out to Urameshi. "Here's a son for you. All you need to do is fight me."

Urameshi laughed. "Nice try kid, but you're wrong. Beelzebub only attaches to humans, and I ain't human enough for the Contract to be successful."

…oh. Well, crap.

Oga sat down on the bench beside Urameshi. He thought for a moment. "But you do have _some_ human in you, right?" Because _some_ human meant that there was an itty-bitty chance that a Contract could be made. If nothing else, Oga managed to get _that_ much out of his math homework. (Somewhere, Alaindelon felt a sudden rush of offensiveness for an unknown reason.)

"Don't even think about it. I've been a demon since…" Urameshi's lips turned upright, a fang poking downward, "since I was born."

Oga glanced at the twin toddlers returning with their (slightly) older sister. "You've got human kids."

"Their mother is wonderfully, gloriously human."

Damn it. Back to the drawing board, then.

(Oga thought about what kind of woman could possibly be wife and lover to the delinquent-demon that was Urameshi Yuusuke. He wondered if he could pawn Baby Be'el off onto her. Shouldn't be too hard. She had lots of experience with demonic little monsters, and he bet she wouldn't even notice the first few weeks that there was an extra mouth just hanging around…)

* * *

**Author's notes**: I... I really, really like Yuusuke and his four daughters. ;_; Have been delayed in posting any new chapters for new stories. My sister got married last week, approximately five hundred miles away from where I live. (CONGRATULATIONS, J!) So, naturally, I went. And, naturally, as it always happens with me, I got hurt, at the wedding reception. I sprained my ankle, and then to add insult to injury my brother stepped on my foot and broke it. I'm no stranger to crutches, but the cast is a new experience that I honestly could've gone without. :(


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's notes: **Thanks, everyone, for all of your kind reviews and words! I'm finally out of the crutch and boot and am motoring around much better. See, I do my best plotting and planning when I power-walk and listen to music. (I, uh, also sometimes act out the characters and their pacing, which results in frequent dashing and jumping up and down on the sidewalk. I sometimes wonder if my neighbors suspect I'm on drugs or something. At least they haven't called the police on me. Yet.)

* * *

Furuichi didn't hurry out of the home ec classroom because he was still hobbling around (on one crutch, and it wasn't that he needed it after a week and a half, but it made a really good club against the delinquents who honed in on him like weak prey), so when Kuwabara told him to stay, Furuichi went with the flow of things. After all, he doubted that Oga would be worried if he didn't show up for the next class, since Oga was likely to have gone missing.

Kuwabara swiped the boards free and replaced some items on his desk top in the drawers as Furuichi waited. When Kuwabara was finished, he seated himself in one of the student's chairs in front of Furuichi and considered him carefully.

"Do I have something on my face?" Furuichi finally asked as he poked at his cheeks.

"So, boy, have you come across any horde of demons yet?" Kuwabara asked with a gleam in his eye.

"I haven't noticed. Too busy dealing with the horde of delinquents." Furuichi didn't think that two bureaucratic demons counted as a horde, even if one sounded like she qualified to be her own military force with enough firepower to wipe out a small country overnight. Or maybe just an hour. He was having some mental difficulty quantifying that kind of described power.

"Hmmm." Kuwabara nodded his head, mostly to himself as he crossed his arms. "Well, I can't expect you to notice a horde when you probably haven't even noticed the demons that currently surround you."

He _had_ noticed Hilda, Baby Be'el, and Alaindelon, but he didn't think that Kuwabara meant them. After all, those three were loud and flashy. Yukina and Mukuro might go unnoticed in a very, very large crowd of people, but they were definitely unforgettable. "Well, there were two demon immigration agents who showed up at Oga's house two Sundays ago when we were studying."

Kuwabara tilted his head in curiosity. "Ah."

"Yeah. The first one – Yukina – was this petite, cute thing, with green hair and red eyes. A real doll, man." Furuichi noticed how Kuwabara's fingers suddenly and impatiently drummed against the desk surface. "The other one was scary. And hot. Definitely hot. Even though they both meant business. Hey, how come you haven't said anything about there being some sort of immigration agency that lets demons come into our world?"

Kuwabara grinned. "Watch it, moth-boy. _That_ one will burn you if you flutter too close to her flames. And the other one will freeze you."

"I take it you know them."

"As you said, they're immigration agents. People who've had experiences with demons will eventually, one way or another, cross paths with the agents or enforcers. I just can't guarantee one's personal safety or the outcome in such a crossing, you understand."

Furuichi could appreciate that. He was pretty sure that Mukuro wasn't the sort you wanted to cross or would just naturally expect good outcomes from. "You did mention earlier that your best friends were demons."

"So's my wife."

Furuichi hurried to wipe away the drool from the side of his mouth. "Humans can marry demons?"

"Not the point, kid. Get your one-track mind out of the gutter and back onto our conversation."

Furuichi didn't think that was very fair. He wasn't the one who mentioned that his wife was a demon.

"I'm concerned about you because, of all the people who're connected with Oga and… what do you call him? Baby Be'el?... Well, at any rate, of all the people, _you_ are the weak link." Furuichi rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "You can't even defend yourself against a banana on the floor-"

"Hey!"

"-so how you expect to stand against a horde of demons? Or even run away?" Kuwabara asked disdainfully.

"I'm okay with hiding and letting someone stronger take the spotlight. I'm a lover, really, not a fighter."

"Not for long. Because you're a sidekick and sidekicks inevitably get dragged into things that are much bigger than them. And do you know what happens to sidekicks?" Kuwabara suddenly stood and loomed over Furuichi, who gulped and nervously shook his head. "Sidekicks are cannon fodder for the main hero's character development, that's what happens! You'll die _sooner_ rather than later, miserable and in agony, because your only purpose is to be a reason for the hero to power up beyond his original level and pummel the shit out of the bad guy who killed you! IS THAT HOW YOU WANT YOUR MISERABLE LIFE TO END?"

Furuichi squeaked and shrank down in his chair. "No, sir!"

"Good." Kuwabara sat down, once again calm. "It is up to you to develop your own backstory and talents, You must become indispensable in such a way that it ensures your survival and existence in history. Now, what are your talents?"

"Um." Furuichi glanced nervously at the clock. "Aren't you going to have another class come in soon? Do we have time for this?"

"No one bothers showing up for the class period after yours ends. Be honest, boy – do you really think you're going to miss much in your algebra class?" Furuichi hadn't quite gotten use to the creepy-crawly sensation he got every time Hiei entered the room. He shook his head reluctantly. "So, in this case, your talent isn't algebra. Although you may have a good future as a short-line cook, since you lack the imagination and creativity for a chef."

"This looks suspiciously like career counseling," Furuichi grumbled.

"Which you won't have if you can't survive a horde of demons. Or even _one_ demon hell-bent on destroying you. So what have you got that would let you survive said demons? You can't outrun them. You can't outfight them. You sure as hell can't join them. The only thing you've got going is your ability to cook your own goose. Literally and figuratively. So, what is so special about you, or what can we make special about you?" Kuwabara rubbed his chin as he studied Furuichi.

Furuichi, who had known Oga his entire life, was quite aware of his own shortcomings. Especially when surrounded by other delinquents at the high school. But he did have something that the others didn't. He knew that. "Uh, brains…?"

"If it has to sound like a question, probably not."

Furuichi shook his head in protest. "No, no, it's not that. Actually, it is. I _am_ smarter than almost all of the hoodlums here. I can outthink their instincts." Except Oga, but Oga belonged in his own world of exceptions. And, well, come to think about it, most of the people who went toe-to-toe with Oga repeatedly were also exceptions, and Furuichi suspected that was only because he expected people to be sensible creatures, and time and time again… well, Oga went toe-to-toe with insensible creatures. Leave it to Oga to repeatedly destroy Furuichi's optimism in his fellow mankind. "Can I outthink the instincts of demons, though?"

Kuwabara studied Furuichi for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "Indeed. And there's a spark in you, boy. With the right fanning, those sparks will put off a lot of heat and a lot of flames, and it might just be enough to keep you alive later." Kuwabara's eyes flickered behind Furuichi towards the door. Furuichi twisted and looked.

"Ah." Shintarou Natsume rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously as he stood in the classroom's doorway. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, Uncle Kazuma. You normally don't have anyone this time of the day."

"I'm done here anyway," Kuwabara said as he stood and dismissed Furuichi with a wave of his hand. "I'll talk to you later. I want to do some training with you after school, but it can wait until summer break. I need to talk to some people and should have a training program put together by then."

Curious, Furuichi was slow in getting his crutch, standing, and leaving the room, so he could eavesdrop on the conversation between Natsume and, apparently, the man who was his uncle. But he still had to move fast enough not to appear as though he were deliberately dawdling.

"Mom and I were wondering if you and the rest of the family wouldn't mind having dinner with us tomorrow night. I don't have to work in the store, and Mom's not working the night shift."

Kuwabara laughed. "I'm always pleased to have dinner with Shiziru-chan and her son. If you want, we can practice after dinner while the ladies talk about feminine things."

"Yes. I've been wanting to ask you about—"

That was the last that Furuichi overheard before the classroom door shut behind.

* * *

**Author's notes**: I like highlighting and exploring not-quite-main characters, like Kuwabara and Furuichi. I especially feel that Kuwabara doesn't get enough credit. In my headcanon, the guy later goes on to use his psychic powers as a private detective, a'la Sherlock Holmes with a twist of Ghost Buster. And you just know that Yukina would make the cutest, sweetest little sidekick ever. *_*

If you do the math just right with Shiziru's son and whom she may or may not have had a relationship with in the YYH canon... Yeah, I _so_ went there. (Any offspring of Shiziru, regardless of paternity, would be awesome. And Shintarou Natsume is awesome. So, therefore, this is my new headcanon.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's notes: Well, I really have no excuse. I taught myself how to crochet, love it to death, and then came to the sad realization that crocheting and typing fanfiction is kinda hard to do at the same time, especially when I'm working fifty to sixty hours a week. So something had to give there for a while... At the bright side, this chapter is longer than others!**

* * *

It was the first school day in July, barely two weeks away from summer break, when Hilda's monotonous routine of waiting for Oga and Baby Be'el to complete school was interrupted. Hilda didn't consider herself a creature of habit, but she found herself falling into a comfortable and familiar routine while watching for "training" opportunities.

A blue-haired woman dressed in a pink kimono drifted out of the sky like a falling feather and came to a hovering stop before the large, shaded tree branch that Hilda had long ago claimed as her own. It was a comfortable branch, and she could see Oga and Baby Be'el in the classroom from where she sat.

"Greetings," the woman declared. Her eyes were wide and bright, and her smile was quick and genuine. Hilda felt her frown deepen. Not to be deterred, the woman's smile was unchanging as she reached into her kimono's sash and withdraw what appeared to be a large pocket watch. "Hildagarde, I presume?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"I am Botan. I'm actually a shinigami, but I do community outreach and assignment direction part-time for the DMVI. I helped establish a positive relationship due to knowing and working with the Tantai since their start." Botan flipped open the pocket watch and began drawing on it with her fingertip. Hilda could hear the watch hum, and knew it had to be a miniature computer-like device. "I realize this is a short notice, but I see here that you haven't yet been assigned anything to collect credits."

"All I know is that I owe three hundred demerits. The process of paying them off hasn't been explained to me."

"You've been fined with three hundred demirts. You pay them off with earned credits through assigned community-related projects and tasks. Such projects and tasks often aren't worth a lot, ranging anywhere from three to six credits. However, I do have an assignment that is worth fifty credits—"

"I'll take it."

Botan studied Hilda for a moment. She didn't seem surprised at Hilda's sudden decision. "But I haven't even told you what the assignment is."

"I'm aware that any assignment worth ten times the value of typical projects and tasks is going to be more difficult, strenuous, or dangerous, and I accept that. The sooner I get this debt paid, the easier I'll breathe. I view such a debt, with all of its assignments and tasks, as an interference with my duties to my Lord Be'el, and hence I must be rid of it." Hilda had been chafing with impatience since the visit from the Enforcers nearly a month before, resentful for being forced into such a limbo. She felt her impatience grow at the insinuation that most tasks paid a measly pittance of credits. Fifty credits was worth one-sixth of her debt.

Botan regarded her with something akin to admiration and respect.

Hilda growled. "What?"

Botan shook herself. "Oh, it's nothing. Well, actually, it is something. _You can think._ It's refreshing, considering whom I've been assigned to work with in the last fifteen years."

Hilda sighed as she stood and secured the umbrella under her arm. "I'm aware that it often seems to be in a short supply amongst my kind."

"Oh trust me. Intelligence and common sense unhindered by an over-inflated ego is a rare commodity amongst humans as well." Hilda and Botan shared a knowing smile between them. Then Botan patted an empty spot on her oar as she tucked the mini-computer into her sash. "Hop on. I'll explain the assignment while I fly us to our destination."

Hilda regarded the oar with mild curiosity (she disguised her trepidation well), and then daintily seated herself beside Botan. Oga and Baby Be'el could take care of themselves today without her; Oga had actually brought all of Baby Be'el's milk along this time. She minded her skirts, which were shorter and more prone to flipping up with moving air velocity.

"Hold on!" Botan declared as the oar suddenly veered away from the tree and spun upwards. Hilda tightened her grip on the oar and her umbrella. "I know this was a sudden announcement – the other outreachers and I try to give assignments twenty-four hours before they start, so you have time to plan for them – but this was dropped rather hurriedly in my lap today, and no one else available has the, uh, talents that you do.

"See, I figured that being a demon lord's nursemaid gives you certain abilities and talents – like patience. And if not patience, you can at least direct someone who essentially has the mind and curiosity of a young kid but enough power and strength to destroy a small city without, you know, destroying a small city in the process. I also assume that you're tactful when you have to be." They rose above the city, closer to the clouds than to the ground.

"Such are important virtues as a nursemaid, and also when working directly under the King of Hell," Hilda said, tactfully.

"Yeah. I know a little about nursemaids, but I figured most of that didn't have to be too far off. Basically, you make one of the world's best babysitters."

Hilda's grip tightened on the oar, but not because she felt that her seat was unsteady. "So you're making me a babysitter?"

"In summary, yes." Botan glanced at Hilda, and then smiled. "But I don't mean that in a demeaning way."

"I am a nursemaid to my _demon lord_." To expect her to babysit anything less was not just insulting to her, but also to Baby Be'el. Baby Be'el was to receive only the finest, and to nursemaid to someone lower-ranked indicated that _she_ was just as low. And low things didn't serve the Beelzebub family. She wasn't sure how much demonic culture that Botan understood, but Hilda would be delighted to explain the nuances. With the pointy end of her umbrella.

"It kinda got explained to me why it's important that any tasks concerning childcare can't be done with low-classed demons. But I'm not worried; Mukuro-san recommended you, and when it comes from her… I, uh, well… I wouldn't say it was so much a recommendation as a diplomatically-worded order. So, here you are and here I am! Shura-kun isn't low-class and wouldn't be insulting, I think."

A recommendation from Mukuro could cut two ways – Hilda wasn't sure that someone who was well-reputed for being cold, cruel, and evil even by the standards of the Makai wouldn't deliberately demean others. It was clear that such a suspicion never crossed the bubbly Shinigami's mind. "Who is Shura-kun?"

"He's the son of Yomi - one of the three former Demon Kings. I'm sure you've heard of Yomi-sama."

Hilda felt the blood in her veins suddenly run cold, and it wasn't because the altitude was becoming thinner and the air frigid. "I know of Yomi-sama." The second of the Three Demon Kings who ruled all of Makai uncontested for centuries. The third, Raizen, was dead, although Hilda had heard word that Raizen's heir and grandson was just as equal in power – and was currently living in the Ningenkai. Hilda was now positive that she was being set up for failure. And failures weren't abided well by powerful demons, even if they may or may not feel insulted at the time.

Hilda calculated the pros and cons of shoving Botan off the oar and hijacking it.

"Right, so here's the situation. Yomi decided weeks ago to attend some meetings regarding policy and current status of demon applicants in the Ningenkai with the upper echelons of the DMVI today, and brought along his son, Shura. I knew that was going to happen, and it's not normally a problem. Shura is pretty good with following after his father and watching how things are done.

"The problem is that Shura has been hearing all about Tokyo-Disney and how it's the happiest place on earth from Toukan-kun and Hideo-chan since last year, and _just_ decided that this trip was the perfect time for him to check out this happiest place on earth. Because the people who would normally do things with Shura while Yomi is in the Ningenkai currently aren't available to assist, Mukuro felt it appropriate to use a motivated demon nursemaid familiar with the Ningenkai."

"To keep him out of trouble?"

Botan giggled, somewhat nervously. "That… that probably goes without saying. Toukan-kun is going to be pulled from school today to act as an age-appropriate companion, but I'm sure you appreciate the mischief of curious little boys, regardless of best intentions and personal maturity. Koenma-sama and Yomi-sama both certainly do, which is why Koenma-sama told me to find an experienced adult, and Mukuro suggested you. But it's not so much keeping him on trouble but teaching and showing him to behave like a human around humans."

Hilda reconsidered the situation. If the ruler of the Rukengai was involved and Yomi was involved to assist with diplomatic management, then this was less likely a setup for failure. "If – and I'm not saying that this will happen or that I'll be unsuccessful in gaining control of the situation – if Shura-sama should become destructive, who's responsible for the damage?" Demon nurse maids were expected to minimize damage, but it was well-understood that they couldn't guarantee complete prevention of such.

If they were strong enough to do so, the nursemaids would be ruling the Makai (or Hell, at least).

"Shura-sama is," Botan answered. They had now reached Tokyo's Ruppongi District, and were starting to descend with long, loose spirals. "He knows well enough that he's not allowed to lose control, especially in the Ningenkai. But don't worry. This isn't the first time he's come to the Ningenkai to go exploring without his father – but it will be the first time without an adult he's respectfully familiar with. He's inexperienced with human culture and interaction, and only has the emotional and intellectual function of a young boy, so this is as much for his safety as it is for surrounding humans."

Hilda sensed the combined powers of several S Class demons collected in a single area. The closer they approached, the heavier the sheer density weighed upon her. As a nursemaid, she was specifically bred and trained to sense demons and their power levels – all the better to understand the surroundings of her charge, and in which to protect him – and while these demons made an effort to suppress and hide their power out of respect to their human-saturated surroundings, it wasn't a complete suppression.

The density of such power pressed all around Hilda. Her heart raced in her chest and a fine tremble raced up and down her spine. She kept her mouth clamped shut, although it was dry, and forced herself to take deep, slow breaths.

"It's tremendous, isn't it?" Botan's voice was a whisper. "Upper class demons used to have to wear limiters when they crossed over to the Ningenkai, but that was before the barrier went down. Without the limiters or the yokei-soaked surroundings of the Makai, S Class demons became that much more recognizable, even when they're trying to disguise their power."

Except that Mukuro's power hadn't even been _this_ pronounced when the Enforcer visited Oga's home. Hilda didn't have time to contemplate the significance of such as Botan dropped them down and banked the oar to an upper-floor balcony at the decadent Ritz-Carlton hotel. They hopped off and arranged their wrinkled skirts suitably. Hilda could see Tokyo Tower closely in the distance. Botan led the way through the open French doors and into the suite.

Hilda mentally braced herself and followed. She kept her gaze turned upward so she could better see her surroundings and the people in them. Centuries of training dictated that she respect the higher-ranked demons and turn her gaze downward, but her survival instincts screamed at her to get out and away because she knew what she was going to face. So she compromised.

Botan's greeting was informal and exuberant. "Good afternoon, everyone! Ah. You're here already, Yukina-san?"

"Yes." The green-haired ice-demon who had visited with Mukuro was present and dressed no differently from when previously seen. She knelt at the hiro table beside other creatures. Left of Yukina was an auborn-haired boy of approximately ten years in age wearing casual day clothes instead of a school uniform. Hilda couldn't define the boy's exact demon heritage with so much demonic pressure surrounding her, but knew something was there because his eyes were as red as Yukina's. To the right of Yukina was an apparently-human girl approximately the same age. She also wore casual clothes and her dark hair pulled sideways into a braid.

Yukina turned to the youth and smiled at him. "Toukan-san was all too happy to skip school for Shura-sama." Toukan grinned, unabashed. "And Hideo-chan here isout of school today for a dental appointment and is staying with me while her parents work. I thought it wasn't fair that the two boys go to an amusement park while she sat through our boring meetings."

"This is Hildagarde-san, she'll be accompanying you and Shura-sama today," Botan said as she gestured Hilda closer. "Hildagarde-san, this is Yukina's son, Toukan-san. That is Urameshi Hideo. You've already met Mukuro-sama and Yukina-san."

Hildagarde bowed deep in acknowledgement. "I am honored that we should meet again," she murmured before straightening. She looked at Hideo. "Is your father the school nurse at Ishiyama High?"

Hideo nodded her head. "Yup. And one day, I'll be there too." Hildagarde had only seen glances of Urameshi Yuusuke. She couldn't quite pinpoint him either, since his heritage felt like a watered-down version of human. She knew enough about such heritages to understand there was some demon blood that had awakened in him, but it didn't feel very strong – a rather pathetic E Class, she guessed.

To the right of Hideo was Mukuro, who drank jasmine tea from a roughly-shaped mug and watched Hilda with a closed expression. The mug clearly was a personal possession that Mukuro had brought along, and seemed as rough and out-of-place as Mukuro appeared amidst the opulent furnishings. On the other side of Mukuro sat a young, unassuming young man who wore blue informal Chinese garb and whose forehead was hidden underneath a matching blue bandana.

He sucked on a pacifier and studied Hilda intensely.

Hilda struggled to keep her expression vaguely respectful as the young man was introduced as Koenma-sama. The lack of further titles indicated that this was as casual a meeting as, apparently, the ruler of the Rukengai's clothes.

"Yomi-sama and Shura-sama should be out in just a moment," Yukina said. She gestured the tea set that sat on the middle of the table. "Shura is getting a limiter to help keep things under control. Please, join us in the meanwhile." Botan didn't hesitate to do so and squeezed in between Toukan and Koenma, but Hilda moved more slowly, since the remaining space was between Koenma and Mukuro.

Between the God of the Dead and an S Class Mazoku. Never before had Hilda ever been so conscious of being caught between a rock and a hard place.

Koenma, apparently impatient with how slowly Hilda was moving, waved her closer. "Tea's getting cold."

Hilda carefully knelt between the two, cautious not to touch either. It wasn't a struggle to move despite the pressure bearing down on her, and her heart was beginning to calm down. She recognized the others to be dangerous, but she didn't feel like she was _in_ danger. Not currently, at least. And it would be a wise investment to be in the good graces of some of the most powerful creatures in all Three Worlds.

Koenma served Hilda. The jasmine tea was rich and fragrant in scent as its steam rose from a cup so delicate that Hilda could see light through the glass. "I want to discuss something, if you don't mind," Koenma said.

"I would be honored to be of service to you," Hilda said softly.

"Well, technically speaking, you _are_ of service to me until all the demerits are paid. Community outreach between humans and demons falls under my jurisdiction. Which brings me back to my questions. Thusfar, the outreach program with community service has only been in one direction – introducing demons to humankind and culture. I haven't had the opportunity to develop large-scale introductions of humans to demonkind and culture. I'm sure you can understand why, given the human proclivity to conquer new places and the native peoples in those places."

The barrier that had previously separated the Makai from the Ningenkai fifteen years previous had been as much a comfort for demons as it had been an insult. It may have kept the demons in, but it also helped keep the humans out. Humans did, after all, have a proclivity to conquer new places and the natives innocently living in said places. And what the humans didn't have in power, they made up in sheer numbers.

"Now," continued Koenma, not letting Hilda catch up with her thoughts, "short of destroying all of humankind, there's been very few ways demons have made themselves largely known to humankind. I don't exactly want to alert very large populations at this moment, as you can surely understand and appreciate." He was silent then, watching her. Hilda was very aware of the other demons watching her, all waiting for a response.

"I can appreciate the difficulty you have with that," Hilda said carefully.

"How do _you_ think we should introduce demons to humankind?"

Hilda raised an eyebrow at Koenma's honest question. Honesty would be her best response – and bluntly so. If she tried to disguise or downplay her own motives when they already knew the purpose of her and Baby Be'el's presence in the Ningenkai, then they would be immediately on guard. "Truthfully? Destroy most of them. Then you could raise and mold the survivors to accept demonkind. That would eliminate a lot of problems." Yukina and Toukan appeared horrified. Mukuro looked as though she was seriously contemplating the efficacy of Hildegarde's simple plan. Hideo just frowned.

"Sometimes," said a deep voice from across the room; it was a tall demon with multiple ears and horns, "the simple solutions are the worst. And while such a plan would have merit for the demons, it should be noted that the last invasion the Makai tried was stopped by some very enthusiastic humans." He was trailed by a youth with a strong family resemblance, approximately the same physical age as Toukan. The youth still stank of demonic energy, but he looked completely human thanks to the ring-shaped limiter on his thumb that Hilda could barely sense.

The two demons joined them at the table. The boy – Shiro, Hilda guessed – casually slouched down beside Toukan. The two silently bumped fists in greeting. Yomi's movements were smoother and more economical as he knelt down between his son and Botan. Botan and Koenma scooted over to make room, and Hilda found herself pressed tightly between Mukuro and Koenma. She felt her heart pounding in her chest again.

"Patience," Yomi said, his voice a smooth purr. "It is best for demons to continue infiltrating the human's society, learning their ways and becoming intimately involved over a number of generations. Let them know, subtly and slowly, that Others are in their midst, but not in such a way that the humans become alarmed. When we finally reveal ourselves to all of humankind, it will be too late for them to retaliate and put on their guard, for we will have already saturated their ranks."

"Boring," said Mukuro.

"In a complicated, quiet invasion like that, things are bound to go wrong," Koenma said with a suspicious frown.

Yomi merely smiled at all of them. His teeth, Hilda considered, looked to be as sharp and deadly as his claws. "I do believe it is time for the children to journey to this Tokyo-Disney." The children's faces immediately brightened. Yomi tilted his head in Hilda's direction. "And this is she who is charged with protection."

Hilda refrained from coughing. She bowed, not knowing if it was a useful gesture towards a blind demon. His ears twitched though, so she knew he must have heard and interpreted the rustling of her clothes. "I swear to you that while they are my charges, I shall do everything in my power and abilities to ensure no permanent damage occurs."

He flashed another sharp smile at her. "It's not my son's safety I fear. Nonetheless, it would be good that all children survive this trip in relatively one piece. I would very much hate to explain to Raizen's grandson how his daughter was harmed."

"I can take care of myself!" Hideo protested.

It was at that moment that Hilda's brain made several lightning-quick connections. And then it hiccupped.


	10. Chapter 10

**author's notes: **This chapter would've been written much, much faster if my sister had actually told me about Tokyo-Disney as I requested, instead of just how boring, crowded, and overpriced the place was. Bad sister!

* * *

It was very hard to grow anything in the concrete wasteland that was Ishiyama. But the groundskeeper/janitor, Kurama, somehow managed. A few blades of green grass barely poked through a crack in the cement, and Kurama gave them a boost of energy. He figured that anything that had the tenacity to grow around here deserved all the help it could get. There were also a few wayward stunted trees that were all twisted and gnarly, as if it was physically painful to be present so close to the school. Kurama also gave these some bursts of his demonic energy, which only made the trees grow more twisted and malevolent, just as the woods in the Makai so often did. Oh well – at least the poor trees were trying.

Kurama did his best to keep the bushes neat and clean, but they were often victims to the rampaging roughhousing of the students during their schoolyard fights. They often tripped and tore through the bushes, breaking off limbs and uprooting the more tender plants. But boys (and girls) would be boys (even the girls), so Kurama would merely sigh and make the needed repairs.

Most of the students avoided Kurama. It was easy enough to do – he was soft-spoken and calm, which should have stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like Ishiyama, but Kurama somehow managed to blend in the background. He was unassuming and nonthreatening as he hid beneath the wide-brimmed straw hat and didn't interfere with students' activities. He often went unnoticed as he worked his way across the campus, cleaning up one patch of foul graffiti followed by patching up a set of holes made by someone's fist, head, or other thrown body part. Kurama didn't challenge the students, and the students didn't challenge him.

There's a lot of notches to be made in one's belt, but to beat up the gardener? That would just be pathetic. Really.

"Pssst. Kurama."

Kurama didn't look up from the rose bush he was coaxing into minding better. He had pulled his hair up in to a sloppy ponytail because the roses sometimes liked to snag at his hair. So far, they had also snagged eight different unsuspecting students with suddenly vicious thorns upon instantly-long branches. Probably out of vengeance for all the times that said unsuspecting students decided they couldn't wait to reach the urinals before answering the distressing call of nature. "You know you're not supposed to be smoking on school grounds, Yuusuke."

"Fuck that. If you guys wanted the school nurse to be better behaved, you wouldn't have picked me. Besides, I'd've made a better home economical instructor than Kuwabara. Seriously – when was the last time any of us actually saw him balancing his own checkbook without using his fingers for adding and subtracting? _I'm _the one who cooks in and runs his own ramen restaurant, and very successfully at that."

Kurama sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Yuusuke. Being the school nurse gives you greater access and freedom to move around inside the campus, which is what you need, _detective_. Besides, _you_ lost the required two out of three rounds of rock paper scissors."

Yuusuke grumbled something under his breath that sounded like, "My detective status was retired, you asshole." Kurama decided that he wouldn't even dignify that with any acknowledgement. "And I still don't know why I couldn't infiltrate as one of the students."

That _really_ didn't deserve the dignity of a response, either, but the look of incredulous disdain that Kurama gave Yuusuke was viscerally satisfying.

"What?" Yuusuke asked defensively. "It's not like I graduated high school last time. Just thought it would be nice to have that chance again, you know? Anyway, I came to tell you about Botan running off with that Hilda chick."

Kurama looked at Yuusuke again. He was leaning against the newly-repaired brick wall that _someone_ had crashed through, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips and his arms crossed in front of him. Yuusuke refused to own up to anything regarding the damaged wall, but the roses had happily tattled already to Kurama. Kurama had to silently agree that Yuusuke would've been his second-to-last choice for a nurse (Hiei was definitely last in that regard). "On a demerit mission?" Kurama asked carefully as he brushed away red hairs clinging to his dirty face.

"Yeah. Botan called me to find out where Hilda was hanging out this morning. Hilda is apparently going to be babysitting Shiro while Yomi, Binky Breath, and Mukuro continue to come up with more red tape."

"It's a good program and you know it. And I trust Yomi's decisions – he wouldn't be my representative if I didn't."

"That wasn't why I'm telling you, Kurama. Apparently, Hilda will be acting as a babysitter for Shiro so he can go to Tokyo-Disney with Toukan and Hideo-chan."

"Nothing wrong with that. The boy will enjoy the human amusement park rides."

"Still not the point. _Clowns_, Kurama. There's going to be _clowns_ there."

Kurama quietly rocked back on his heels. He regarded the roses – they looked a little fuller, since they had agreed that they did feel somewhat naked without more leaves. He slowly removed his battered and filthy gardening gloves before picking up his trowel and standing. "I shall be taking the remainder of the day off from work," he said as he walked past Yuusuke.

"There, see, I knew you'd appreciate the gravity of the situation that Botan didn't."

oOoOoOo

In the time that Hilda had been in the Ningenkai, she hadn't gone to Tokyo-Disney. It wasn't something that had interested her, especially if Oga and Baby Be'el weren't inclined to visit. Hilda despised crowds of demons; she hated crowds of stinking, ignorant humans even more. Even though school was still largely in session, there were still a lot of people at the amusement park, especially the tourists.

"I want cotton candy," Shiro said, tugging at her ribbons. Hilda refrained from smacking him. The boy had taken the liberty of addressing her chest – Hilda could ignore that, since that was naturally where his eyelevel was – and had the utter audacity to not keep his hands to himself. He touched and poked at _everything_: displays, his companions, food, other people, garbage, dead things (a rat, choked on a peanut, it appeared). Hilda had only spent an hour with the children, but was already much more appreciative that Baby Be'el was such a quiet, demure baby who was thankfully _not_ a tactile learner

"Nachos sound better," Hideo said firmly. Hilda was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was surrounded by children of S Class demons – or who were themselves _already _S Class, in the case of Shiro. She hadn't sensed his power with the limiter when surrounded by Mukuro and Yomi, but now that they were away from such powerhouses and surrounded by wimpy humans, Hilda could feel the void where his power should be.

It was a very large void. She could swear it looked back at her when she turned her attention on it.

She also felt something strained and off about Tousan, as if he wasn't so much a watered-down version of demon, but that he was a jumble of differences vying for attention all at once. When riding the teacups and he had leaned against Hilda, she sensed fire and demon. As he vomited the remains of his hotdog after the teacup ride, she sensed ice and human (humans were disgusting creatures with far too many leaks, Hilda was certain). Now, while looking rather green in the face as his companions demanded more food, she sensed light and _other_.

Even though she was the daughter of Urameshi Yuusuke – and was herself a direct descendant of the Mozaku – Hideo felt all-human to Hilda. It didn't mean that Hideo was normal, though. In fact, Hideo was more demonic in habit than the actual demon boys. She had no problem using elbows, knees, and the steel-toed combat boots to move through the crowd, much to the dismay of the gentle Toukan and the jealousy of I-promise-to-behave Shiro. Hideo even bit someone in the arm when the stranger carelessly reached across in front of her nose.

Hilda felt proud of Hideo. Perhaps it was the scrappy young girl hidden so deep within Hilda's personal psyche that appreciated seeing a fellow scrappy young girl.

Then again, Hilda considered as Tousan borrowed her water bottle without asking to rinse out his mouth, it was more likely due to how Hilda was herself barely restrained from killing (or biting) someone.

"Come on!" Hideo declared, tugging at Tousan's shirttails. "Let's go show Shiro Toontown!" She turned to Shiro. "It's really awesome," she said. "They've got _live_ cosplay."

"And mild rides," Tousan said with a relieved smile as he followed the tugging. He offered Hilda back her water bottle, but she refused with a shake of head and hand.

"We can come back to _these_ rides though, right?" Shiro asked. "Because so far the rides have been the _best_ part."

"Toontown is also really great," Hideo said. "There's all kinds of little stores, and food vendors. Like nachos." Her voice dropped into a whisper. "They have the best nachos. Plus, the costumes are really great. My favorite is Roger Rabbit."

Shiro looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he cast a sideways glance at Tousan. "Very well. It would all give us the opportunity to recuperate."

Hilda sighed, and told herself that a fifty credit mission was clearly going to have its ups and downs. And she kept telling herself that an hour later, even after she dragged her charges to the top of the Ferris wheel to escape the demonic fire burning Toontown to the ground.

Nonetheless, she secretly cheered as Hideo punched Shiro so hard that the boy nearly toppled off his perch. "You killed Roger Rabbit!" Hideo screamed with a vicious shake of her fist.


End file.
